Fated
by Eratta
Summary: Penname changedCompleted What if T'Pol had married a Vulcan and brought him to live on Enterprise? LEAVE REVIEWS!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: No, I don't own most of these characters, just K'Vel. I'm not making any money, so don't ask for any rights.  
  
Prologue: In my alternate universe, T'Pol was never engaged to Koss, but instead she was engaged to K'Vel. In their earlier lives, they were amiable towards each other, but after T'Pol joined to Vulcan Space Program, they lost touch. This begins after Shockwave II, when the wedding day draws near and T'Pol has to come out with her secret and decide what to do.  
  
15 Days. 15 days until the most important day of her adult life. T'Pol gazed into the flickering flame, rather disturbed with the recent events of her life. It seemed so long ago that she had first sat in this room, disturbed with the events that were shaping her life even then. She had not wanted to be assigned to this mission. If she hadn't been Vulcan, she would have protested the post to the very end. But not only was she Vulcan, she was also an officer in the space program. It was completely against protocol to complain. So she had taken the assignment and borne the humans.  
  
When Captain Archer asked her to stay, she had been completely surprised. Yet, she didn't refuse. This was a rare opportunity, though it would not be an easy one. Her fascination with humans outweighed her dislike of dislike of them, at least for the most part.  
  
It had been a year of trial and tribulation, and adjusting to the circumstances and the crew had been difficult to say the least. The rows with the captain and commander were too numerous to remember individually, but somewhere along the way she had earned their trust, and developed a respect for them both.  
  
She slowly blew out the candle and carefully stood. It took a moment for the spinning to stop in her head. The drugs pumped into her by the Suliban were still circulating. Though Dr. Phlox had told her they would wear off with no lasting results, she still felt weak and sick. Had it been hours or days since she was interrogated?  
  
Climbing into bed, her thoughts returned to their original path: K'Vel. It had been so long since she had thought of him, much less seen him. Receiving a letter from him had been a shock and had brought on much anxiety. She wasn't prepared to give up her post on the Enterprise. But likewise, she wasn't prepared to call off her impending marriage. Warm memories permeated her sleepy mind. She remembered meeting K'Vel for the first time, at their betrothal ceremony. He had looked so serious at seven years old, but his eyes twinkled with a hidden light that made her want to learn more about him. As the years went by, she felt close to him like she did to no one else. There was a kind of intimacy they shared, and she always felt comfortable around him, almost as if they were siblings.  
  
They had met twice a year until she joined the Space Program. She remembered telling him of her choice, and asking for his opinion.  
  
"I have decided to join the Space Program."  
  
He didn't look surprised in the least. "I'm happy for you."  
  
"You are not surprised?"  
  
"No."  
  
She looked at him quizzically across the table.  
  
"May I ask why?"  
  
He took a sip of his plommek broth, choosing his words purposefully. T'Pol waited in silence.  
  
"You have never been . . . completely comfortable here. You have always desired to serve a greater purpose than the traditional wife. Serving in the Space Program will allow you to use your scientific expertise and get you away from this environment, without damaging your reputation."  
  
Her relief was almost tangible. She would never admit it, but his opinion mattered more to her than anything.  
  
"You will stay here?"  
  
"I am pursuing a career in diplomacy. Perhaps we will meet again on another planet."  
  
She fought the urge to fidget.  
  
"I will leave next month, but my assignment is . . . indefinite. I'm not sure when I will return."  
  
His eyes slightly narrowed in concern.  
  
"Surely you will be excused from duty for our marriage."  
  
"Yes, of course." She amended quickly  
  
"Or," he corrected, "Perhaps I will travel to join you, if you wish it at the time."  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
She was touched by his offer. He always put her comfort before his own. That was the last time she had seen him, or heard from him. Once she reached her post on Sarab 4, she had been too busy to write. As years went by, he also advanced in his career, and was unable to write. Until now. Now their wedding day approached, and he had contacted her; reminded her that his offer still stood. But what was she to do? She couldn't ask him to live with her aboard Enterprise; she wasn't even sure if the captain or the High Command would permit it. Such were the troubling thoughts that plagued the Subcommander late that night.  
  
Two days later, T'Pol stood outside the captain's quarters. Squaring her shoulders with deliberate purpose, she patiently pushed aside the feelings of doubt and apprehension. She pressed the doorbell, and waited to be invited in.  
  
Archer was surprised to see T'Pol so early in the morning, but he smiled. He still couldn't get over how she had challenged Soval and backed him up just a few days ago. It still warmed his heart. But today, something was wrong. He could almost swear she was . . . uncomfortable, or maybe even unhappy.  
  
"Is something wrong?"  
  
T'Pol was appalled at his ability to pick up on her mood. Was it really that obvious? Fortunately for her, decades of strict Vulcan discipline took over as she responded without missing a beat.  
  
"Yes, in a manner of speaking."  
  
Archer gestured to a chair.  
  
"Have a seat and tell me about it."  
  
She did, and carefully chose her next words. Archer waited patiently, somehow knowing that this was important and that it would require his full attention.  
  
"How much do you know about my personal history, Captain?"  
  
Wow, that was a shocker! Definitely didn't see that one coming! He thought to himself as he struggled to recover.  
  
"Uh, well . . . not that much." He offered helplessly  
  
"What does this have to do with your personal life? I thought you were always a private person, being a Vulcan and . . . well, . . ."  
  
She cut him off, wanting to get this conversation over as soon a possible.  
  
"It concerns my marriage plans."  
  
Again, Archer was shocked. Why the hell was she telling him this? Then it hit him."  
  
"You want leave to get married?"  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"Then why are we discussing this?"  
  
"My marriage is supposed to take place in 14 days, and my situation is . . . difficult. As per Vulcan custom, my husband and I must live together for at least one year after we are married. I trust you understand the nature of my problem."  
  
Archer's brow furrowed as he considered what she was telling him.  
  
"I wish you'd told me sooner." He said, getting up to look out the window.  
  
"How long until you leave?"  
  
She also stood, steeling her nerves for the request she was about to make.  
  
"That was what I wanted to discuss."  
  
He turned back to look at her, not quite sure what she was up to.  
  
"Go on."  
  
"If you would permit it, I would like to request that he join me here."  
  
"Here? Why?"  
  
"I . . . do not wish to terminate my post. The logical course of action would be to have him join me. As a diplomat, he will gain experience here and be useful in future encounters with aliens"  
  
Archer had to hide a smile. This time last year she would have given her right arm to get off his ship. But hey, why not? If having another Vulcan onboard would end her troubles, he'd do it without a qualm, despite his previous experiences with other Vulcans. Hell, if she could make it sound logical and make it look like a good deal, he'd do straight away.  
  
"How does the High Command feel about this?"  
  
"They agree with me and have given their full consent."  
  
Of course, he thought wryly, why have only one Vulcan on board when you can have two?  
  
"Well, why not? When will he be here?"  
  
"In 8 days. We will be married on his ship on the set date. Afterwards, the ship will return to Vulcan."  
  
He smiled. "I'll inform the crew. I assume he'll share your quarters?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Again he smiled, wondering how she would react to a human style reception. He nodded, signaling her dismissal. As she turned to go, she added,  
  
"Captain, . . . thank you."  
  
"Anytime Subcommander, anytime."  
  
The next 7 days flew by as the crew was informed of their superior's marriage. T'Pol was surprised at the amount of smiles she received. Crewmembers she didn't know offered their congratulations with anxious anticipation. Captain Archer and Commander Tucker had already pumped her for information, wanting to know how long she and K'Vel had known each other, how they fell in love, and what he had recently been doing. While they were disappointed to learn that Vulcan marriages were arranged, they were still obviously excited. And the surprise plans for a reception were already underway. All they had to do was wait for the wedding party.  
  
Finally, the Vulcans arrived.  
  
"Captain, we're being hailed."  
  
"Put it up, Hoshi." Archer stole a glance at T'Pol, who looked as calm and collected as always.  
  
An older male Vulcan face appeared on the viewscreen. Archer gave him his best "Captain's face" while the rest of the senior crew sat a little straighter. Nobody wanted to embarrass T'Pol in front of her family.  
  
"Captain Archer, I presume."  
  
"That's right. And who might you be?"  
  
"I am Meniv, father of K'Vel."  
  
"Pleased to meet you. I understand you will be with us for some time, so we've prepared a meal for you and your family, if you'd care to join us?"  
  
The older Vulcan appeared to deliberate for a moment, than answered,  
  
"We accept. When would you like us to board?"  
  
"How's 6?"  
  
"Acceptable. We will see you then."  
  
Archer (and for that matter nearly everyone on the bridge) turned to their science officer, who was pointedly ignoring their looks. Trip finally asked the question on everyone's lips.  
  
"Wait a sec, why didn't he say 'hi' to you?"  
  
"He was addressed by the Captain. To address me would be rude."  
  
Hoshi grinned, Archer tucked his head to hide a smile, Trip shook his head in wonder, Malcolm wondered what weapons a private Vulcan vessel had, and Travis simply smiled. Pretty much, everything was normal; they still didn't understand the finer points of Vulcan manners.  
  
Later that night, T'Pol was heading to the Captain's mess. She couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. After all, she was going to see her fiancé, her parents, and her future in-laws for the first time in years. How would they respond when they saw her? She knew it was illogical to think she would evoke emotion from them, but she couldn't help it. As she rounded the corner and accessed the private room, she almost ran into her soon-to-be husband.  
  
Standing mere centimeters from K'Vel, T'Pol's gaze slowly made its way from his chest to his face. She was greeted by his familiar kind hazel eyes. She noticed his face had become more sculpted. His trademark jaw was still strongly pronounced, but the new hollows under his cheekbones strangely fit him. A surge of an unrecognized emotion surged over her, rendering her rooted to the spot and oblivious to all other activity in the room.  
  
Hello, T'Pol."  
  
His voice was warm and kind, just as she remembered it. She found it hard to look away. In fact, it was hard to speak as well. Her vocal chords simply wouldn't make any sounds.  
  
Jonathon and Trip exchanged looks that were a cross between bewilderment and barely contained laughter. T'Pol was actually at a loss for words. Trip desperately wished he had a camera, and Archer couldn't wait to bring this little incident up on some boring rainy day. It was nice to see their cold Subcommander caught off guard once in a while. And their chemistry was almost tangible. At last, K'Vel stepped back and faced the others in the room, breaking T'Pol out of her trance.  
  
She stepped out of the doorway and gave the traditional split-finger greeting.  
  
"Good evening." She said respectfully to the adults. K'Vel's parents responded with equal respect, but T'Pol's parents couldn't remain aloof. In two strides, her tiny mother crossed the threshold and lightly embraced her daughter, to the obvious shock of the other Vulcans. The older woman released her daughter just as quickly as she had hugged her.  
  
"Forgive my display. I have missed you." She said quietly. Her voice was the same as T'Pol's, as were her eyes and nose. Streaks of gray shot through her cropped chestnut hair, but it did nothing to diminish her beauty. Her husband came to stand beside her, and he fixed his daughter with a typical fatherly assessing stare.  
  
"You are well, I hope?"  
  
The humans seemed a little out off by this. How could a man be so cold to his own daughter? It didn't daunt T'Pol in the least.  
  
"Yes, I am well."  
  
Next, she greeted K'Vel's parents, and they all sat down to a vegetarian dinner. Conversation was slow (Vulcans typically don't speak when eating) but eventually they discovered mutual interests. T'Pol and K'Vel's mother discussed the latest scientific research being done on Vulcan, Trip was talking plasma coils with T'Pol's father, and Archer discussed various alien cultures with K'Vel's father. The humans were surprised at how amiable these Vulcans were. Was it genuine, or just a one time thing for T'Pol's sake?  
  
The week flew by between more covert planning on the reception and various meetings with the Vulcans. By the end of their stay, Archer was almost sorry to see them go. The night before the wedding, he came down to Sickbay to get an injection for an ache in his neck. He was surprised to see T'Pol there.  
  
"Shouldn't you be asleep? Tomorrow's your big day." He said with a grin.  
  
"I was unable to sleep."  
  
"Nerves, huh?"  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
Archer didn't know whether to laugh or sigh. Poor T'Pol was getting cold feet. And why shouldn't she, his mind argued. She's about to marry a guy she hardly knows and bring him to live among humans!  
  
"Anything I can do?"  
  
" Actually, I was wondering . . . if you and the senior crew would like to attend the ceremony."  
  
She had caught him unawares again. She seemed to be doing that lot lately.  
  
"Well, um, sure. I'm sure they'd--we'd-- love to come."  
  
T'Pol's eyes screamed gratitude, and it touched him. She had come so far and done so much for them, the least he could do was indulge her now.  
  
"I'll see you at 0800. Now try and get some sleep."  
  
"I will. Goodnight Captain." 


	2. wedding day

But T'Pol didn't sleep that night. She was far too restless. After countless attempts to settle her mind, she finally gave up and went to her meditation table. There she lit the single large candle, and focused on the events at hand. It wasn't long before she heard soft footfalls in the corridor. Then her doorbell chimed.  
  
"Enter."  
  
The door slid open to reveal a large silhouette. Judging by his head and shoulders, T'Pol knew it was K'Vel.  
  
"I thought you would not be asleep."  
  
"I am . . . rather restless."  
  
"As am I. May I join you?"  
  
She gestured to a flat pillow opposite her own, and he gracefully folded long legs to assume a sitting position. They closed their eyes, each attempting to focus their minds. It didn't work. After a few minutes, T'Pol spoke up.  
  
"I believe we are troubled by the same thing."  
  
"Oh? I think you are apprehensive about us living together here on Enterprise."  
  
She blinked. Had he always been this intuitive? Yes, she thought with an inner smile. She had simply forgotten.  
  
"And you are not?"  
  
"I told you once years ago that I would follow you wherever you chose to go. Where you are comfortable, I am comfortable. I trust you will see that I am just as adaptable as you are."  
  
"I am not adaptable."  
  
"Of course you are. Why else do you think you were chosen specifically for this mission? Or why do you think you have remained here?"  
  
T'Pol couldn't respond to that. But she relaxed with the knowledge that he didn't regret his promise.  
  
"I'm glad you came. I will do my best to act as an appropriate wife."  
  
A shadow of a smile crossed his face, provoking a similar one from T'Pol. He always made her feel so good. Was this what the humans referred to as affection?  
  
"I only want you to be what you are. If you are not true to yourself, you will not be happy."  
  
She cocked her head in an unspoken question. He understood, and silently nodded, answering her in the affirmative. Just as gracefully as he had sat down, he bent over the flame towards her. She was confused, but not alarmed. Slowly, reverently, he placed a soft, chaste kiss on her brow. The sensation of his lips to her skin burned deliciously. Her mind was swept up in a surge of emotion that by now she was quite well acquainted with. Still within centimeters of him, she lazily opened her eyes. In his face, she saw all the emotion in his eyes and for the first time since she was a child, T'Pol's heart took over.  
  
Speaking proved to be too much of an effort, as did anything else. Staring at him, she felt. . . . it was indescribable, this feeling. It was similar to the way she felt towards her parents; affection mixed with devotion, gratefulness, respect and awe. But there was something else too, something much more than affection. And for the first time in many years, T'Pol wanted. She wanted so bad it hurt. But what exactly did she want? It was so simple and at the same time so complex! She wanted to be the individual that mattered most to him. She wanted to be the one in whom he would confide and trust; the one person he would think of first when something troubled him. She wanted him to be the one person who knew her best; the only person he had a strong mental and physical link to.  
  
As her eyes changed to accommodate the new realization, K'Vel smiled. Finally, she knew what it felt like. How long it had taken her to reciprocate his feelings! How could he explain that he had felt that way since they were older children and on the verge of adulthood, and before that he had admired and cared for her as a friend? Before, she would never have understood this need, this longing which he had cherished for so many years. Tentatively, he stretched out his hand. Soft fingertips brushed against T'Pol's jaw, and the sensation sent a bolt of lightning through her body.  
  
It seemed to have become hotter in her cabin, she noted absently. She was suddenly very aware of every inch of her body and its proximity to his. This contact was so new; she didn't know whether to be uncomfortable or to launch herself into his arms to get the most out of the moment. As his fingers traced her delicate mandible, she sensed a pleasant tickling sensation at the back of her head. Focusing on it, she recognized emotions nearly identical to her own. But they were older and more controlled as well as alien; these were seasoned feelings that didn't belong to her. Finally, she understood the depth of K'Vel's affection for her. Indeed, it was so strong it could hardly be called affection at all. With an inner smile, she thought, this is love, and as Commander Tucker would indubitably say 'I have it bad'. And so does he  
  
Having said his peace and satisfied that they understood one another, K'Vel stood, lingering for just a moment.  
  
"I will see you tomorrow."  
  
He turned and accessed the door, once again silhouetted by the dim corridor lights; he silently left the Subcommander's quarters. T'Pol, exhausted by what had just happened, blew out the candle and climbed into bed. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.  
  
The Wedding  
  
Like all wedding days, everyone involved awoke with a huge grin, thinking 'it's finally here!". The wedding party in deep space was no different. The senior crew awoke early to get ready, specially dressed in new formal uniforms. Hoshi put on more make up than usual, Trip spent even more time than usual combing his hair, and Malcolm even left behind his favorite blaster, as it disrupted the line of his uniform. The Captain took Travis with him to the galley, making last-minute checks on the progress of the human-style reception.  
  
The bride awoke only slightly earlier than usual. Her mother arrived at precisely 0730, as tradition dictated, to help her prepare.  
  
"Good Morning."  
  
"Good morning, Mother."  
  
"I trust you slept well."  
  
"Yes, . despite some problems earlier in the evening."  
  
"You were anxious about today."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Kind, brown eyes looked her over, as if they could see straight into her soul.  
  
"I felt the same before I was married."  
  
The Subcommander looked sharply at her mother. She had always considered the relationship between her parents as the model for which all other relationships should be based. In fact, they were so in-tune with one another they often communicated without speaking; not even needing a physical bond for mental conversation. It had never occurred to her that perhaps they were uncomfortable with one another at some point in their lives.  
  
"You did?"  
  
"Yes. I also was unable to sleep, but later that night your father spoke to me telepathically."  
  
"Without performing any bonding ceremonies or having any physical contact? I would not have though it possible."  
  
"Neither did I. But that convinced me that our souls were . . . destined to reside together. Did K'Vel do something similar?"  
  
"He came to see me last night. We came to an understanding of sorts."  
  
If T'Pol's mother had been able to see her daughter's face, she would not have pressed further. T'Pol's face would easily betray her new-found feelings for her soon to be husband. However, she was presently preoccupied with straightening T'Pol's gown.  
  
"If you have serious doubts, you could always call it off." She murmured softly. She meant it as an off-hand comment, but T'Pol could discern the concern laced in it.  
  
"I have none. I believe we can be . . .happy together."  
  
Her work done, the older Vulcan came around to face her daughter. Seeing her in the traditional wedding gown brought a twinge of sadness to her mind. Was it so long ago that this woman had been a fetus sharing her body, or an infant suckling at her breast? She had grown up so fast, mentally if not physically. She had left home to live and work among aliens, and now she was going to be partnered. It was enough to melt any woman's heart.  
  
T'Pol noticed the change in her mother's face. She had looked the same way when her eldest had left the house. T'Pol had only been a child then. This had to be a delayed case of separation anxiety. Confidently; she wrapped the petite woman in a light, comforting embrace. As her mother relaxed and returned the grip, T'Pol couldn't help but marvel at the power of touch. Perhaps limited personal contact on a regular basis would be beneficial. It was a thought to ponder another time. Letting go and stepping back, she said to her mother,  
  
"We should go."  
  
Composing herself into her normal, calm and reserved state, the petite elder tucked her arms into her sleeves, surveying her only daughter for the final time. A ghost of a smile graced her lips.  
  
"Forgive me for the use a human expression, but you look beautiful."  
  
"I assume that means my gown is straight." She said softly, pleased with the compliment  
  
"That and more. Let's go. It would not do to be late."  
  
And with that, they left T'Pol's quarters, left Enterprise, and boarded the Vulcan ship, where K'Vel, his parents, and the senior human crew awaited their arrival.  
  
Archer and Trip exchanged nervous glances onboard the Vulcan ship. Was it just them, or were Hoshi, Travis, and Malcolm also uncomfortable? Hell, they hadn't been this worked up since the Academy finals!  
  
They were in a small room, which had uncharacteristically been furnished with several objects. There were books on the shelves, candles covered every spare space, and the windows were draped with soft green fabric. They had arrived a few minutes before, and were standing in a semi-circle around the brightly-lit room. K'Vel had entered with his parents and T'Pol's father, explaining that T'Pol and her mother would be along shortly. Coming over to the Captain, K'Vel asked,  
  
"Are you all right? You seem uneasy."  
  
"I've just never been to a Vulcan wedding before. I'm not sure what's going to happen. None of us are." He added with a glance towards the others.  
  
K'Vel's gaze followed his own.  
  
"I see. Allow me to clairify the situation. When T'Pol enters, she will be escorted by her mother to the edge of the ring." He gestured towards the circle of candles on the ground. "Then, if she so chooses, she will freely enter the ring, and so will I. We will then make vows out loud, much like humans do. Finally, our parents will initiate the bond between us."  
  
"The bond?" Hoshi asked.  
  
"A mental bond exists between all married Vulcans. In time, it will mature in parallel with our relationship. Eventually, we will even be able to telecommunicate."  
  
"So, yer gonna be in each other's head for the rest of yer lives? Hell, that's . . . uh, one hell of a commitment."  
  
"Yes, marriage is a great commitment. Why else do you think our parents spent years searching for the right mates for us?"  
  
Once again, the crew glanced at each other. The notion of arranged marriages had never been something they could easily understand, especially when applied to their forbidding science officer. Most of the crew had come to see her as sexless, despite her body. Her marriage was still something of a head-shaker. But it was reassuring that she wasn't marrying some random guy.  
  
The door slid open, and T'Pol's mother entered the room. Following her was T'Pol. She flowed into the room in a fitted dark green (the same color of Vulcan blood) gown. It covered her completely, from neck to fingertips. It was also covered in symbols identical to the ones on K'Vel's outfit. Reading them, Hoshi's mouth formed a smile, and Malcolm made a note to find out what those symbols meant later. With her head held high, she looked directly at her fiancé, eyes never leaving him as she left her mother and proceeded alone to the circle of candles. Taking their places on the opposite sides of the ring, the elders chanted in Vulcan.  
  
*If you do so freely choose to be bonded now to your chosen mate, enter the ring and begin the ceremony.*  
  
On cue, they both stepped into the ring, mere inches from each other. Carefully and with slow, deliberate movements, their hand intertwined.  
  
*I, T'Pol of Vulcan promise to honor you as my chosen husband. My mind is open to yours; my body will bear our children. I will never lie or keep things from you. I will value your opinion and consult you before making decisions that concern us. I will be a proper wife, now and forever.*  
  
*As you promise to do this, I, K'Vel of Vulcan promise to do the same. I will protect you and our family from harm, and I will consult you on matters which trouble me. I will stand by you in what you choose to do, where you live, and how you raise our children. My mind is open to yours, and I will be a proper husband, for now and forever.*  
  
Fortunately, the humans had their UTs and were able to keep up. Trip was grinning like a fool, Travis kept looking from one to the other like an excited little kid, Malcolm smiled, and Hoshi looked about to cry. As for Archer, he had never been so proud of his science officer. She was making a bold, emotional leap into the unknown world of marriage, and she was going headfirst. It was enough to make even the toughest critics of the Vulcans smile.  
  
Together the young couple said, "I vow all that I have said in the presence of my parents and the senior crew of the earth ship Enterprise."  
  
Now, the older women stepped forward. They gently pushed T'Pol and K'Vel together and brought their still entwined hands up to rest beneath their chins. Carefully, they bent their heads forward, so that they were forehead to forehead. It was the closest either of them had ever been to another individual. They closed their eyes as the mothers chanted slowly,  
  
*You have now vowed to be one; act on your vows now. Enter each others' minds; form the bond that will forever mark you. You belong to each other now, and nothing will break the mental bond you have established. Use it and let it grow to encompass you. It is your guiding light, now and forever.*  
  
Slowly and at the exact same moment, K'Vel and T'Pol opened their eyes. They looked bewildered, even for Vulcans. As they stared at each other, recognition finally dawned. That wonderful ghost of a smile played along K'Vel's lips, which in turn provoked a similar one from T'Pol. Backing away from each other, but still holding hands, they faced their audience.  
  
"The ceremony is complete, and we must be on our way." K'Vel's father said.  
  
Wordlessly and still holding hands, the newly-weds nodded together and led the humans out of the room. Trailing behind, Travis was signaled to the captain to inform Enterprise. As the final farewells were said, the older Vulcan parents left, and T'Pol returned to Enterprise with her crewmates and husband. She watched the Vulcan ship pull away from the airlock, and felt a twinge of homesickness. K'Vel sensed it, and gently squeezed her hand, promising more intimate comfort later. As they entered the main corridor, they were surprised by the deafening sound of applause. The majority of the crew had gathered in front of the mess hall to congratulate the Vulcans, and they couldn't wait for the reception to begin!  
  
A/N Well, that's my take on the wedding. Any comment? Questions? Should I give this up or continue? 


	3. The reception

According to most reports, the reception went pretty well. T'Pol and K'Vel had definitely been surprised, and it certainly gave the senior crew a good feeling. Trip especially thought the bewildered look T'Pol sported was priceless, and slyly took her picture. He couldn't wait to get to his make- shift darkroom and develop these prints.  
  
To the surprise of everyone, K'Vel actually seemed rather excited. He pulled T'Pol into the large room, which had been hastily decorated while the ceremony was being performed. A buffet was set up across from the wedding party table, and a space had been cleared for dancing. As the newly weds sat in their places, the captain raised his glass and gently tapped his spoon against it. A hush fell over the multitude as he prepared to make his speech. Addressing his science officer and her new husband, he began,  
  
"On behalf of everyone on board, I'd like to wish you both all the best in married life."  
  
A quiet applause interrupted him for only a moment.  
  
"Seeing as I'm not a married man, I can't really offer any advice, but I don't think you'll need much."  
  
T'Pol couldn't help but notice how sincere he looked. Not for the first time, she was glad that she had elected to remain with these oddly endearing humans. She would never have guessed they would plan this reception. It was genuinely kind, and never before had she felt so accepted or welcomed. Her eyes darted to her husband, who looked at her shyly before returning his attention to the host.  
  
"You both are such wonderful people, I know you'll do fine. But K'Vel, as a word to the wise," he added, mirth in his eyes "We all know T'Pol is a woman who always gets her way, and I think you'll understand when I say that the most valuable and receptive phrase we humans have discovered is 'Yes, dear'."  
  
Trip laughed out loud as he slapped his knee, and Hoshi fixed him with a mock-stern glare.  
  
"In your words, Commander, 'damn straight!'" She said across the table. Trip in turn called back,  
  
"You outta be teachin' that ta' Malcolm, Hosh. I think it'll be awhile before he bows down to a junior officer."  
  
"There are no ranks in relationships, Trip." She retorted, smiling as Malcolm turned a peculiar shade of red and muttered some incomprehensible British expression.  
  
As the day wore on, nearly everyone had a smile to beat the band. It had been declared a day of celebration, so a skeleton crew was on duty most of the day. The party raged on for hours, involving dancing, eating, and story telling. Probably the most comical thing was Trip trying to get K'Vel and T'Pol to dance. They resisted bravely until Trip brought out his secret weapon.  
  
"C'mon now, K'Vel, I thought you said you were a diplomat."  
  
"I am."  
  
"Well then in the interest of interspecies relations, I think you should dance. It's a human custom for the bride and groom ta dance at the reception!"  
  
"Perhaps you have had too much to drink, Commander. I'm sure you were taught that Vulcans do not participate in off-species activities."  
  
"T'Pol, you spoilsport, you've engaged in those activities before. Remember that food tasting session we had? That was definitely a human activity; the classic shmorgasborg. Besides, it's good practice fer yer husband. I'm sure he'll hafta cater to someone or other durin' the course 'a his career."  
  
Finally, T'Pol's patience wore thin, and with a look she signaled to K'Vel that she would do this just to shut the human up. K'Vel, amused, agreed. He was rather curious about dancing. He had watched Lt. Reed and Ensign Sato practicing the art of 'slow dancing' and wondered if such coordination was instilled at birth or learned. As they stood and made their way over to the 'dance floor', Trip winked broadly at Hoshi and programmed the computer to play Chopin's Waltz No.7 in C-sharp minor, Op.64 No.2. He had specifically chosen this piece and whipped out his camera again. Why didn't I become a photographer?, he asked himself wistfully as they took to the floor.  
  
It was beautiful to watch. The Vulcans were perfectly in tune with one another, gracefully gliding around the floor as easily as if they had been doing this all their lives. They spun, dipped, turned, changed directions and paces, all in perfect time. Malcolm had to hand it to K'Vel. He certainly could dance.  
  
Later that night, in T'Pol's quarters, she and K'Vel meditated together for the first time. The concentration strengthened the new bond between them, and each could feel how content the other was. How wonderful it was to share thoughts with each other while not disturbing the peaceful atmosphere. She remembered when as a child she was first told of the bond between mates. Her mother had told her seriously that when she was bonded, nothing would every really be private between her and her husband. She had been apprehensive. To a people who valued privacy so much, it seemed far too invasive.  
  
*"Won't it be uncomfortable, knowing that at any possible moment, someone can see your thoughts? What happens when he sees something I don't want him to see?"  
  
Her mothered had looked at her kindly through the mirror as she fastened the buttons on her tunic, much like she had today. With all the wisdom of a happily wed mother, she answered confidently,  
  
"It is your father's and my task to find a suitable mate for you. That means not only that he must be intelligent and possess integrity, but also a certain degree of compassion. He also must be . . . suited to you."  
  
"Suited to me?"  
  
"You will understand when you are married. You will see that the bond is not invasive, but inclusive. You will not want to hide things from him; instead, you will want to share everything and will come to rely on him. That is one of the purposes of marriage."  
  
T'Pol smiled to herself. That conversation had never made much sense until today. Words couldn't describe the way K'Vel affected her. But her mother was right, she did want to share everything. They were in each other's minds now, both laid bare for the other to see. Nothing was hidden or shameful. Past events were simply that, and future goals became part of something larger. Together that night, they planned their future, and later in bed as K'Vel snuggled his wife closer to his chest, he allowed a smile to grace his lips against her dark, silky hair. Finally, they were complete; no longer two halves of one being. They were united, as it had intended to be. In his mind, he could hear T'Pol argue sleepily that it was illogical to believe in predestination, but when he asked her to explain why they were paired so uncannily well, she couldn't. They slept, content not to ponder any further that night 


	4. Captain's log

A/N: In the interest of keeping this story flowing, I'm not going to go into too much detail about the first few months of the marriage. Mostly it will be covered in a series of captain's logs, and maybe one or two little incidents. Please bear with me here while my muse is on vacation. I'm also not quite sure where I'm going with this; I basically make it up as I go, though I am trying to adhere to a basic outline. It might not be so long afterall. . .  
  
Captain's Star Log; Supplemental  
  
"Things seem to be going well onboard. Commander Tucker made some adjustments to the configuration of the warp core today, enabling us to travel at sustained Warp 5 for a slightly longer period. It might not sound like much, but out here, every minute counts. Ensign Sato is also to receive a medal for her ability to take control of a hostile situation."  
  
The captain sat back on his bed, scratching Porthos behind the ears as he remembered Hoshi's heroic actions. It was classic. A week ago, he had sent her and a team to investigate the Neolithic culture of a newly discovered planet. After a miscommunication led to violence, Hoshi had been forced to bluff her way through their language to save the other crewmembers lives. He still couldn't help but smile when he pictured her, nose to nose with the leader, demanding the release of her team. And of he wasn't mistaken, Malcolm was equally proud of her. He remembered how she glowed when he prasied her. Maybe there would be another wedding in the future. . .but that was thinking a little too far ahead.  
  
"Computer, resume log. Other than that little bit of excitement, nothing else has caused too much of an uproar. Granted, Travis was stranded in a pod for a few days last month when he had been unable to steer clear of an asteroid field, but that wasn't too terrible. I actually think he rather enjoyed it. Computer, pause log."  
  
He debated whether or not to continue the log. The only other thing he hadn't reported was the effect of K'Vel on the crew. Needless to say, things had worked out pretty smoothly. After being onboard for only 4 months, he had quickly gained the respect and trust of the crew. He received data from the High Command often, and when he wasn't reviewing the latest diplomatic journals he was lending a hand wherever it was needed.  
  
For an entire week, he helped Ensign Cutler in sick bay to analyze some complex tissue samples when Phlox was indisposed. He also worked with Malcolm in the armory from time to time, discussing upgrades to the phase cannons no doubt. He even went over some ancient dialects of Vulcan with Hoshi the other night.  
  
No doubt about it, K'Vel had certainly made an impression on his crew. But even more impressive, Archer mused, was the effect he seemed to have on T'Pol. He couldn't exactly explain how, but she was more personable. She was still decidedly a Vulcan and was all business as usual, but she was softer somehow; almost more feminine. He could tell (and knew Trip saw it as well) that she deeply felt for him, even if she didn't show it as freely as he did. She even got scared for him.  
  
Memory/Flashback  
  
K'Vel lay on the biobed, barely conscious as Trip explained what had happened. As usual, an away mission hadn't gone directly as planned.  
  
". . . So there we are, in the middle of this jungle, when we suddenly get ambushed by the local natives. The UT said somethin' 'bout that area being a sacred ground of some kind, but it couldn't get the rest of what the guy was sayin'.  
  
So K'Vel tried ta explain that it was all a misunderstandin' and some bastard in the back shoots a dart inta his neck! 'Next thing I know, we're bein' transported back up here."  
  
He finished the speech with a whoosh of breath while his best friend allowed the information to permeate his brain. Another misunderstanding, what else is new?  
  
Just then, T'Pol had stormed into Sickbay. Paying no attention to the others in the room, she marched crisply over to her husband's prone form and accused,  
  
"You deceived me."  
  
"I did not." He answered weakly. The other two senior officers were impressed. It took a lot to stand up to the Subcommander when she was mad. They stayed, though uncomfortable; feeling that this was a private situation. Still, if T'Pol didn't make a fuss about them witnessing a marital feud, why should they?  
  
"I did not. I told you that I planned to go on the mission."  
  
"That was not the impression I had last night. I thought we had agreed to discuss the matter further in the morning."  
  
"There was no time; the storms caused the timing to be adjusted."  
  
"And you saw no reason to alert me of the situation?"  
  
"You were off duty and sleeping. It was logical to leave you in peace."  
  
"I was not in peace when I received a call from the doctor, informing me that you had been injured." She said softly. She had come to gradually lose her offensive posture and was no sitting on the edge of the bed, peering into his face. She had to school herself to keep from taking his hands."  
  
His look mirrored hers, but held a bit of mischief.  
  
"It was not logical to become worried."  
  
She offered no response. Instead, she turned to the doctor, asking,  
  
"When can he return to our quarters?"  
  
The ever-cheerful Denobulan looking up from his scans, replying,  
  
"In a few hours. You should let him rest now, Subcommander. I will alert you when he can leave."  
  
T'Pol thanked him, and turned once again to her husband. Her look was one of cool annoyance, mixed with a little mirth. Trip grinned to see it. 'Looks like somebody'il be on the couch tonight' he thought to himself.  
  
After she had left, Trip clapped a large hand onto the Vulcan't shoulder.  
  
"K'Vel, m'friend, welcome to our world."  
  
"I do not understand."  
  
"None of us do. It's the universal question: How to understand women. Its kinda comfortin' ta know that alien women are just as bad."  
  
To his credit, K'Vel looked genuinely amused.  
  
End Memory/Flashback  
  
Glancing at the chronometer above the monitor, Archer decided it was time to turn in. He turned off the lights, climbed into bed, and adjusted himself so that both he and Porthos were comfortable. All was well with Enterprise and her crew, but that's when fate decides to send in little surprises just to spice things up. . . 


	5. Illness and an Unexpected Surprise

T'Pol walked down the corridor, accompanied as ever with her data PADD. It was amazing how she could navigate the corridors without having to look up. Crewmen stepped out of her way as she continued on her daily route to the mess hall. Some of the crew even offered greetings.  
  
"Good Morning Ma'am"  
  
"SubCommander,"  
  
"Good Morning SubCommander T'Pol."  
  
T'Pol had noticed that since K'Vel's arrival, the crew had begun to treat her differently. They no longer seemed to fear her as they once did. Some who had never spoken to her without being spoken to now greeted her regularly, as some just had. It was uncanny. She knew a ship wide liking had developed for her husband, but she couldn't understand why they would reach out to her.  
  
She had now entered the mess hall, and proceeded to the drawers on the side of the room that contained two bowls of a bland and faintly odorous liquid. She took one of the bowls, and proceeded to her preferred spot. In a secluded corner between the comm. and the window, she sat gracefully and dipped a spoon into the green liquid. She had just finished her weekly briefing from the High Command when she was happened upon by a smiling young ensign.  
  
Hoshi Sato smiled warmly over her laden tray.  
  
"Anyone sitting here?" She asked casually. T'Pol trained her calm gaze upon the younger woman, invitation warming the lovely, yet intense and calculating brown Vulcan eyes.  
  
"Please, will you join me?"  
  
Hoshi sat and proceeded to make precise cuts into her cantaloupe. She didn't bother making small talk, being very familiar with the Vulcan habit of maintaining silence during meals. But she was surprised when she heard a faint sound come from her superior. It sounded like a suppressed hiccup. Curious as to what could elicit such a sound from the stoic Vulcan, Hoshi looked up to see T'Pol pressing a hand to her heart, apparently in discomfort.  
  
"SubCommander, are you alright."  
  
T'Pol had no idea what was happening to her. The wave of nausea had happened upon her so suddenly she hadn't been able to mask it. She tried to focus herself, but was suddenly overwhelmed for the first time in many months by the smells normally associated with a human vessel. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she fought to retain her dignity and the contents of her stomach.  
  
Hoshi, who had watched the silent inner struggle, decided to act. She quickly looked around, and spying Travis, she called his name.  
  
"Travis!"  
  
The helmsman looked up from his oatmeal to see who was calling his name, and after a quick glance, he saw Hoshi waving frantically to him from a corner. Wondering if there was a real problem or just a spider she wanted him to kill, he meandered over lazily. Hoshi, now truly concerned for T'Pol's worsening condition, quickly grew impatient with his saunter and frowned deeply. Travis sensed something was wrong, and hastened over to the little table. In the shadow he saw T'Pol in her current state, and quickly looked back at the other ensign, eyes round with concern.  
  
"What's wrong with her?"  
  
"I don't know, but we have to get her to sickbay."  
  
"Right,"  
  
He moved towards the door before Hoshi snapped her tongue like a whip.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?" She demanded in a low hiss.  
  
He looked confused.  
  
Hoshi gripped his sleeve as she hauled him back to the table and pointed to T'Pol's prone, but still very conscious form. Travis still didn't understand what the linguist was getting at. Finally, the indignant Comm officer spelled it for him.  
  
"She obviously can't walk."  
  
Travis looked like the proverbial deer caught in headlights. The idea of merely touching the formidable woman was enough to send his stomach plummeting in nervousness. The thought of hoisting her and carrying her all the way to sickbay absolutely terrified him. Again, Hoshi on the path of losing her temper with his current state of shock, and made a mental note to make several 'men-are-so-dense' jokes in the next few days.  
  
"Well, come on! Pick her up and let's go!"  
  
At this, T'Pol, who's growing nausea had no effect on her superior hearing, held up a hand in weak protest. Travis, unsure of what to do, but fearing Hoshi's wrath if he stalled any longer, made a move to lift his frail commanding officer. She knocked his hand away and threw a glare at him before muttering a hoarse "No".  
  
He glanced back at Hoshi, who pursed her lips in frustrated concern. She decided that if she was ever going to disobey T'Pol, it would be now. Decidedly, she marched over to her side and gripped her arm, hauling T'Pol carefully from the chair. Once standing, the wave of nausea came back three fold, and T'Pol fought with all her discipline to keep from wretching. Fortuantely, she paid no attention to Hoshi, who was hauling her out of the mess and down the corridor as fast as possible, trailing a worried Travis behind them.  
  
The reached Sickbay in record time, and before Dr. Phlox could say a word, T'Pol brushed past him into Sickbay's lavatory, disappearing behind the door to let her body have its way. She was mercifully quiet about it. Phlox, surprise written all over his face, turned to the ensigns, who were faintly panting.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"She got sick all of the sudden, in the mess hall." Hoshi managed to say between pants. The doctor turned to Travis, who was staring at his boots and blushing. Hoshi glared at him.  
  
"Of all the times to be indecisive."  
  
"I'd like to see the look on your face if you were told to pick her up!" He muttered back.  
  
It was at this time that T'Pol made her entrance. She stood upright with her hands at her sides, but her face was flushed and she was trembling. Wordlessly, she turned and lay down on the nearest biobed, trying not to sigh too hard. Phlox grabbed a scanner and trained the florescent blue light on her, and absently murmured,  
  
"Perhaps one of you should alert K'Vel."  
  
Travis practically ran from the room. Hoshi rolled her eyes and stepped closer to the doctor and his patient.  
  
"Will she be alright?"  
  
Phlox gave her one of his famous face-engulfing grins.  
  
"I'm sure she will. Why don't you go back to the mess? And please inform the captain that the SubCommander will not be reporting for duty today. Hoshi smiled as she leaned over to make eye contact with the other woman.  
  
"Get better soon SubCommander."  
  
T'Pol blinked and gave her a look of genuine gratitude. On her way out, Hoshi smiled inwardly to herself. May as well go home now, she mused I've seen everything.  
  
As she left, K'Vel entered. He proceeded over to the biobed, and gazed deeply into his wife's hooded eyes. His face was composed and relaxed as usual, but there was an unmistakable aura of worry surrounding him. Through the link, T'Pol felt his concern, and took comfort from it. She lifted her hand to his, and he took it in his own large grasp. She drew upon his health and strength, using it to calm her dancing stomach and her frazzled nerves. As her head cleared of the unpleasantness, she sat up and looked expectantly at her doctor.  
  
"What was that?" K'Vel asked.  
  
The doctor grinned mysteriously, as if guarding a wonderful little secret. T'Pol, however, was in no mood to tolerate a subordinate's coyness. She fixed him with a stare, daring him to keep the truth to himself. Phlox cleared his throat and glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot. He then said, very carefully and slowly, as if savoring the moment,  
  
"It appears, SubCommanded, that the miracle of reproduction has once again taken place."  
  
K'Vel instantly jumped to his feet, still holding fast to T'Pol's hand.  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
"Oh yes. The, er.miracle seems to have taken place only two or three weeks ago."  
  
K'Vel looked at T'Pol, not even bothering to mask the wonder and awe and love he was feeling at this very moment. T'Pol, however, was having a more difficult time understanding and accepting the facts. She was with child, on a human ship, only a few months after her marriage had begun. That, in and of itself, was unusual. Most Vulcans did not procreate until several years had passed or the onset of Pon Far drove them too. She wasn't sure if she was ready for this. She had anticipated at least several more years until she would have to settle down to the serious and time-consuming business of child-rearing. She looked at her husband and then to the doctor, who was bustling about compiling information she would need, all the while chatting as usual.  
  
".will need to see you on a regular basis for the next ten months, and you'll have to start eating for two." He paused as he returned with the PADD. He looked slightly uncomfortable, and asked the question that was on everyone's mind.  
  
"May I ask how, and when, you are going to tell the captain?"  
  
T'Pol was silent as she considered it. Both men were awaiting her answer.  
  
"When it is certain the fetus will survive to term." She stated uncertainly. Miscarriages were rare in Vulcan pregnancies (another evolutionary mechanism), but they weren't impossible. K'Vel said nothing; accepting the decision was hers, and braced her as she stood. Together, husband and wife, parents-to-be, walked out of sickay and to their shared quarters. They had much to discuss. 


	6. Discussions

T'Pol and K'Vel walked briskly into their dark quarters. As T'Pol headed for the bed, K'Vel walked into the tiny bathroom and filled a glass with cool water, knowing she would want it. Coming back to her where she sat on the edge, he handed the glass to her and crouched in front of her, trying to make her eyes meet his.  
  
They didn't have to; he knew how she was feeling, and it bothered him. He was elated (well, as close to elated as Vulcans get), but he knew it was not the case for her. It was her body that was experiencing changes and her career that could be jeopardized, not his. But he knew she could do it. He knew that deep down, she wanted this child just as much as he did. Carefully, he rested a hand on her knee, and she was startled out of her personal reverie. The look she gave him pleaded for help. With all the emotion she was experiencing, she couldn't quite feel the love and support he was pouring through the link.  
  
"I can't do this." She whispered.  
  
"And what makes you say that?"  
  
"I have no experience with children, much less infants. And how exactly am I going to explain this to . . .anyone?"  
  
He rose and sat next to her, gathering her to his chest. His heartbeat sounding in her sensitive ears calmed her, as did his stroking of her back and hair.  
  
"There is nothing to explain," He murmured softly.  
  
"Like the doctor said, this is a miracle, both in our world and the human world. No one will think less of you because you will be a mother."  
  
The logic of his words was profoundly stabilizing, but she still was battling with the fear that was rising in her throat.  
  
"And what of my career?"  
  
He pulled away slightly, and cupped her well-proportioned face with his warm, dry hands.  
  
"Vulcans have been raised on alien planets and ships before."  
  
"But it is rare. What if . . . our child is . . . stigmatized by it?"  
  
"Need I remind you that I was raised on no less than 12 planets and 6 ships?"  
  
"But your parents are well respected and orthodox. No one would think badly of you because of that. But I, having lived among humans and in such close proximity for so long, . . ."  
  
. He could see where she was going with this, and he was going to put a stop to it here and now before the fear engulfed her completely.  
  
"There are some who don't approve of some of your decisions," he began seriously,  
  
"But you have proven time and again that you are loyal to our beliefs and culture, if not always our government."  
  
She gazed at him, wanting desperately to believe him, wanted to believe that her child wouldn't suffer as a result of her actions.  
  
He knew she was close, and pressed his point gently.  
  
"You have proven that we are not so very different from the humans," he stated, referring to her confrontation with Ambassador Soval after the mission was nearly cancelled. She looked away, not sure of the wisdom of her words.  
  
"And it has shown many of our people that a lasting relationship with Earth may be to our benefit. Your research has been reviewed by several prominent members of the Science and Interspecies councils,"  
  
T'Pol's eyes darted up in surprise.  
  
"And proves that your time here has not been wasted. If our child lives even for a short time around the humans, it will not be the last."  
  
He stopped, gauging the effect of his words on her. Her mind cleared of confusion and doubt, and regained its normal state of composure. Satisfied, K'Vel sat back and waited. After a few moments, she turned to him, and laid a shy hand on his.  
  
"You don't think it's too soon?"  
  
He rewarded her with his tiny half-smile, and replied,  
  
"You know our culture believes nothing happens too soon."  
  
Her face remained stoic, but through the bond he could tell she was smiling back.  
  
"You have been known to dispute some of our cultural beliefs; I merely want your opinion, despite the fact that it is of no consequence." She retorted.  
  
Impishly, he leaned closer and planted a soft kiss on her brow.  
  
"In that case, I think its perfect timing."  
  
A flush spread over T'Pol's cheekbones as she remembered that this had happened as a result of what began as kissing. Her husband knew what she was thinking, and sighed. He'd thought that after making love, he could never love her more. But now he was beginning to wonder if love was infinite, growing continuously until death.  
  
He gently laid her down, and with a parting kiss on the cheek, he made to leave the cabin.  
  
"I will take your post on the bridge today. Call me if you need anything."  
  
He knew she wouldn't, but he offered his services anyway. It was his pleasure and duty, after all.  
  
"Are you going to inform the captain?" She asked thickly. Sleep was fogging her brain.  
  
"No," He answered gently, "It is your responsibility to inform him when and how you wish."  
  
He left the cabin and made his way to the Turbolift, where he joined Travis.  
  
"Hey, how's the SubCommander?" He asked meekly?  
  
K'Vel looked at him, reading his face like a book.  
  
"Don't look so guilty Ensign,"  
  
Travis looked up, terrified that an angry husband was going to beat him up for not being of more use.  
  
"I wouldn't have tried to pick her up either." K'Vel said mischievously, eyes twinkling.  
  
Once Travis realized he was going to live for another day, he ventured,  
  
"But she'll be okay?"  
  
They stepped out of the lift and onto the bridge, where the Vulcan diplomat was bombarded with similar questions.  
  
"Yes," he answered universally, "She will be just fine."  
  
The bridge crew noted that for the remainder of the shift, K'Vel seemed to have a smile lingering just beneath his Vulcan façade. 


	7. Informing the Crew

For the next few days, T'Pol moved through her normal routine as best as possible. It was . . . difficult, to say the least. Two days previous, when they had encountered a potentially dangerous situation regarding an alien freighter, she had been shaken. All she had been able to think about was the fetus growing inside her. In those few hours, she was hit with the full knowledge of what raising a child in space would be like. Despite K'Vel's assurances, she could not shake the newly strengthened feelings of protectiveness and fear associated with the pregnancy. After two sleepless nights, she decided that the only way to dissuade her malcontent was to speak with someone. But because she still had not revealed the news to Archer, she only had one choice. As she silently slipped from the bed and out into the corridor, she hoped the doctor was on duty. Fortunately for her, K'Vel had taken the liberty of asking for the good doctor's advice. Being a married man and the father of several children, he had been more than happy to offer counseling or any other type of support. The Vulcan man's visit had alerted him that the Sub-Commander was prone doubt and fear, in a maternal aspect. So it came as no surprise when he saw her entering his Sickbay late one night. "Good Evening, SubCommander, what can I do for you?" T'Pol took a moment to organize her thoughts. She had never received counseling for something like this, and the idea of revealing her emotions was an unusual, uncomfortable one. Still, she looked him straight in the eyes, and with her usual candidacy, said, "I was wondering if I might rely on you for some parental advice." Phlox smiled knowingly and gestured to a biobed. T'Pol remained standing, but unclasped her hands. "What kind of advice are you looking for?" "I . . . am uncertain about raising a child in space." "Well, that's nothing to be ashamed about," he began, but altered course when she gave him her slightly intimidating stare, effectively communicating that she was never ashamed of anything. "I mean, it's perfectly natural to feel somewhat protective. Most mothers prefer to have their children in relatively stable and predictable environments."  
  
T'Pol nodded. Yes, she definitely liked to be in control, but didn't mind the fluctuating circumstances of her job. But when it came to the life of her child, the life she was responsible for more than anyone, she was unsettled.  
  
"We have already decided to keep our posts, provided Starfleet and the High Command agree."  
  
"And the Captain . . .?" Phlox probed.  
  
T'Pol looked away. She still could not make herself tell Archer, partially because he was her commanding officer, and partially because she was afraid it might upset the balance between them that had been so carefully wrought. It had taken months for the crew (and him in particular, to accept her). Adding motherhood to her duties would indubitably interfere with her work, but she simply couldn't ask for permission to leave. But at the same time, she couldn't ask him to make yet another concession for her, and she certainly didn't want to be considered, a "free-loader".  
  
Watching her for a few moments, Phlox knew he had come to the root of the problem. She had been deceiving herself. It wasn't the potential risk of space that worried her, it was telling the Captain! And of course, he reasoned, it should. Their friendship is very carefully balanced and still rather fragile, and she hated asking for favors. No wonder she dreaded telling him.  
  
"T'Pol," he began, "you must tell him." For a split second, her shields failed and the Denobulan could see her apprehension. "He will not react the way you expect." He finished.  
  
T'Pol looked doubtful.  
  
"Human behavior is notoriously erratic and unpredictable."  
  
The doctor shook his head and smiled at her.  
  
"I'm certain he'll be delighted. It may come as a . . .surprise to him, but at the very least, he'll understand." T'Pol gazed at him, wondering what gave the Denobulan such insight into alien minds. She straightened and re-clasped her hands behind her back, and the look on her face was decisive.  
  
"Thank you for your advice, Doctor."  
  
He favored her with a huge grin, "Anytime, SubCommander. Try and get some sleep tonight."  
  
She nodded, but as she left Sickbay, she knew she would have to break the news to Archer soon. She resolved to do it the next morning. Climbing back into the warm bed, she knew that it would only be a matter of hours or days at the latest that the whole ship would know. Snuggling closer to her husband, she thought wryly, "first a marriage and now a child. And they thought we were predictable." Then she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The following morning, T'Pol woke and dressed early. As she was coming out of the bathroom, K'Vel sat up in bed and smoothed down his hair.  
  
"You are up early." He remarked.  
  
"I have something to discuss with Captain Archer."  
  
He knew what that 'something' was. He threw back the covers and came up behind her to zip up her uniform. He gave her a reassuring kiss on the back of the head, and then moved to access the latest diplomatic report from Vulcan on the computer. T'Pol paused at the door, glancing at him one last time before heading to the Captain's mess. On her way through the deck, she passed Phlox, who winked at her in encouragement. T'Pol wondered how many other human traits he had acquired. She paused outside the Captain's Mess, calming herself and squaring her shoulders. She gently pressed the announce button, and at his call, entered the little room. Archer looked up from his toast and smiled.  
  
"What's up?" He was amused to see that she didn't raise her eyes to the ceiling. It seemed that she was finally picking up on some good old-fashioned human slang.  
  
"There is something I need to discuss with you."  
  
He looked at her suspiciously. Something told him this wasn't about the sensors.  
  
"This wouldn't be another 'personal matter', would it?"  
  
She shifted, and Archer dreaded what was coming next. She was practically fidgeting. This couldn't be good.  
  
"What's wrong?" he inquired, concern dripping from every syllable.  
  
"I have been to see the doctor. . ."  
  
"And? Is something wrong?" By now he had stood up and was peering closely into her face, as if he could find some physical trace of an illness. She took a step back, and swallowed shallowly.  
  
"No, not wrong exactly."  
  
"So what is it??"  
  
She took a deep breath, and let it out.  
  
"I am with child."  
  
Archer barely allowed that to process before he spoke.  
  
"Oh, thank God! You had me thinking it was some Vulcan terminal disease or something."  
  
Then he realized what she had just said. Had he heard correctly? Had she just said she was pregnant? His eyes widened as the questions circled in his brain.  
  
"What did you just say?"  
  
"I said I am with child."  
  
"Pregnant?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Wha- I mean, when, uh. . .how long have you known?"  
  
"A few days."  
  
He stopped asking questions, and just stood in shocked silence while T'Pol waited for his next reaction. She tensed imperceptibly. But just then his face broke into a smile wide enough to rival Phlox's.  
  
"Well, I never would have guessed! Congratulations!" he exclaimed through his laughter. He nearly gave her a hug, but stopped himself just in time. T'Pol had never seen him so excited.  
  
"You are . . . pleased?"  
  
"Yeah, of course I'm pleased! It not everyday one of your friends finds out she's going to have a baby! Why, did you think I'd be mad?"  
  
Her silence spoke volumes.  
  
"T'Pol, how could you possibly think I'd be angry?"  
  
"You have made many concessions for me, and I thought this might" He cut her off abruptly.  
  
"You thought this might be pushing it. You thought that I'd make you go home because you're pregnant." He shook his head at her folly.  
  
"You've still got a lot to learn about us."  
  
"You actually believe Starfleet will . . . condone this?"  
  
"Sure. What about the High Command?"  
  
"The practice is unusual, but not entirely frowned upon."  
  
"Great, then you'll stay with us, have your baby, and still be my first officer."  
  
T'Pol looked at him skeptically. He was much more open to this than she had anticipated.  
  
"A child will require much of my time."  
  
"You look a little bored on the Bridge anyway. And K'Vel can help look after the kid too, right?"  
  
She looked at him quizzically, but decided not to ask how a young goat had any importance in the conversation.  
  
"Yes, on Vulcan both parents actively raise the child."  
  
Just then the chronometer chimed to signal the end of the shift. Archer accessed the door and followed T'Pol out to the bridge. They were the first of the senior crew to get there, and taking the opportunity, he asked,  
  
"When will you inform the rest of the crew? A baby is. . ."  
  
And of course, the lift door opened to reveal Travis, Malcolm, Hoshi, and Trip, just as the 'a baby is' had left his lips. The men were slow to make the connection, but Hoshi, with her female inquisitiveness and natural gift for deciphering things, instantly shrieked with joy.  
  
"Oh my God!"  
  
She rushed over to T'Pol and crashed into her with a bear hug, despite the petite Vulcan's mild protests. Archer looked on happily, and the other men just began to realize.  
  
"What the . . .?"  
  
"Did he just say . . .?"  
  
"Cap'n, what exactly is goin' on here?"  
  
Glancing at T'Pol, who nodded her consent over Hoshi's shoulder, Archer cleared his throat and announced to the senior crew (and consequentially to the entire galaxy),  
  
"It seems will be having another person on board in about, say, nine months.  
  
"Ten." T'Pol corrected.  
  
The three young bachelors looked on in wonder. T'Pol smiled to herself. The next ten months were certain to be interesting. 


	8. Spreading Like Wildfire

A/N: Thanks so very very much to all of you who have reviewed. I'm sure my fellow authors know just how much reviews do for one's self esteem. Just so you know, the references to certain attributes of T'Pol's pregnancy have nothing to do with any other stories or trek lore. This is all simply a large and rather complicated figment of my imagination. Also, sorry for the um.anticlimactic, chapter. I'm still trying to figure out exactly where to go with this. I have several possible ideas, and this story is always on my mind. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated! Okay, that's it. Keep reading and writing! Now, on with the story!  
  
As expected, news traveled like wildfire. Before half the day was over, the entire starship was buzzing with the news. Who would have guessed that their SubCommander would become pregnant, especially while on a human starship! It was simply too exciting. In the hours that followed the impromptu announcement, both Vulcans witnessed an unprecedented amount of goodwill directed towards them. Neither would ever have imagined that an entire crew would be smiling at them all at once. K'Vel had been heading down to engineering to speak to Trip. The Chief Engineer had expressed some confusion (with the aid of his famous idiomatic expressions) over some of the precious few Vulcan specs that had been included in the database. K'Vel was only a fraction away from visibly being happy to help, since T'Pol would most likely have her hands full for the next several days with her science scans. But nothing could have prepared him for the welcome he received. Upon entering the heart of the ship, he had a little difficulty locating the sandy-haired man. But the problem was solved almost immediately as Trip wound his way through men and women at top speed. He was obviously excited, though K'Vel had no idea why. Indeed, he barely had time to register the fact before Trip landed inches from him, breathing a little heavier due to his exertions. There was a wonderful twinkle in his cobalt blue eyes, and K'Vel was mildly suspicious.  
  
"Commander? Is there a reason why you hurried to meet me?"  
  
Trip just stared for a moment, the grin on his face growing wider than usual.  
  
"You son of a gun!"  
  
K'Vel imitated his wife's trademark: the famously raised eyebrow.  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"When were you going to tell us? It's not right to keep things like this under wraps!" Trip exclaimed. When the Vulcan man remained silent, Trip threw up his hands in frustration. Then, before either had a second to think, he slammed an arm onto K'Vel's back.  
  
K'Vel stood absolutely still, wondering just what he had done to provoke such an outburst. But when Trip's grin remained, he realized that the Commander was . . . pleased.  
  
"What exactly are you referring to, Commander?"  
  
"You and T'Pol!" Trip practically shouted. Neither man noticed that almost all work had ceased in the engine room.  
  
K'Vel looked at Trip slowly before replying, "Am I to understand that T'Pol has informed you of her . . .situation?"  
  
Trip guffawed. "It's not a 'situation', K'Vel. It's baby, and yeah, she told . . . uh . . .actually, we kinda walked in when she was sayin' somethin' to the cap'n."  
  
There was complete silence in the room. Trip realized every one of his crewmen had just heard some rather private and explosive information. Straightening and removing his arm from around his friend's shoulders, he called out in a professional voice, "Okay, everybody back ta work!"  
  
K'Vel stopped him, saying, "If my wife has told you, then there is no need to conceal the truth. She is pregnant and will continue to be for quite some time."  
  
Trip still felt a little sheepish; not sure if T'Pol would appreciate having the news spread so blatantly, but what was done was done.  
  
"I jus' wanted ta say congratulations." He mumbled.  
  
K'Vel regarded him for a moment or two, then answered, "Thank you. If you are finished, perhaps we could go over the schematics that were giving you so much trouble?"  
  
Trip nodded, his grin back in place, and led the way into his office. ~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Later that evening in the Captain's mess, Trip and the Captain proceeded to pump as much information from the expecting couple as possible, as well as outlining the necessary precautions.  
  
"Has Phlox told you when you're due?"  
  
"The 24 of April, I believe."  
  
"That's ten months; are ya sure?"  
  
"A normal Vulcan pregnancy lasts ten months."  
  
"Well until then, were going to have to take extra special care of you."  
  
T'Pol looked up from her salad and into the eyes of the three men. Something told her they would do everything possible to keep her from lifting a finger over the next few months. Absently, she wondered if K'Vel would be as adamant as the humans.  
  
"What do you mean, 'special care'?"  
  
Archer put down his glass of iced tea and looked her squarely in the face, effectively demonstrating that he was perfectly serious.  
  
"I've spoken to Phlox."  
  
She waited.  
  
"He tells me that during the course of the pregnancy, some of your systems will be compromised."  
  
"I am aware of that." She replied, exchanging a look with her husband.  
  
"He says he can treat most of them, but we can't let you off the ship until the baby is born. Exposing you to alien spores and diseases will affect you in ways other then they would if you weren't pregnant, not to mention what it would do to the baby."  
  
"I agree, but I have the distinct feeling that you mean to do more than prohibit me from away missions."  
  
Trip chuckled into his steak. She certainly had learned to read them well. Archer smiled hesitantly at her, knowing full well she wouldn't like what he was going to say next.  
  
"He also says that the baby will affect your conscious cycle, meaning that as time goes on and it grows, you probably will spontaneously drop off."  
  
"I know that as well . . ."  
  
The captain exchanged a look with K'Vel, and T'Pol began to feel a little irritated at being kept waiting for information that concerned her.  
  
"You're going to have to be with someone at all times, in case you suddenly drop and for some reason injure yourself."  
  
He stopped, gauging the affect of this new protocol on her. It was difficult, but over a year with close contact between them, he soon could tell she was not pleased.  
  
"I don't see why that is necessary. On Vulcan such a thing is never practiced."  
  
"Women on Vulcan aren't on starships that have locking doors and sharp edges to bump into, not ta mention radioactive products." Trip said quietly, deliberately avoiding the daggers in her eyes.  
  
T'Pol turned to her husband and in a low, hushed voice softly asked, "And what is your opinion of this new . . . protective measure?"  
  
"K'Vel considered it for a moment before answering, "Captain Archer has a point. The . . . attacks he mentioned will in all likelihood occur several times, and should you injure yourself, it will be beneficial to have someone nearby."  
  
Having said his peace, he looked at her; understanding her distress.  
  
"Consider the fetus." He advised, hoping to appeal to her sense of rationality.  
  
"And besides," Trip added from across the table, "it won't be that differ'nt from what you do now. Not much privacy to be found in the middle of space with 82 other people on the ship."  
  
T'Pol, knowing any argument she might present would be refuted, resigned to the fact that she would have no time to herself for the next ten months. K'Vel leaned towards her reassuringly.  
  
"I will be with you most of the time anyway. All you have to do differently is stop taking your customary walks late at night.  
  
Archer and Trip glanced at each other. Late night walks?  
  
T'Pol gave one last look at the three men surrounding her, prepared to do everything in their power to keep her from harm.  
  
"Very well." She conceded. Finished with their meal and the conference, they rose from the table and made ready to leave. But she paused for just a moment, and added with just a touch of steel in her voice, "But I will not allow my work to be interfered with."  
  
Archer smiled and nodded.  
  
"Of course not."  
  
Satisfied with his answer, T'Pol and K'Vel left the dining room. Glancing out the view port at the steaks of starlight, Jon was surprised to hear Trip chuckling behind his hand.  
  
"What's so funny?" He inquired of his best friend.  
  
"T'Pol." Trip managed between chuckles. "I mean, can you imagine what she'll be like when the hormones set in?" He was laughing outright now. Jon got the idea that there was something more.  
  
"I can't wait," the engineer wheezed, "to see her when she gets all moody."  
  
"Trip . . ." his friend warned. But by now he was chuckling too.  
  
"Cantcha just see her?" Trip was nearly sobbing with mirth now. Doing his best imitation of T'Pol's expression and voice, he said, "What do you mean 'I look heavier'?"  
  
Now Archer was bent over double, waving his hand to stop the hysterical impersonations. But Trip was having way too much fun.  
  
"'You are not satisfied with my current physical condition?'"  
  
Trip was laughing so hard now he only had enough breath to get out one last comment.  
  
"What do you mean 'I'm eating a lot'? I'm pregnant; I'm supposed to be eating more. It's logical."  
  
The laughter could be heard in the mess hall, and the crew members eating their dinner wondered what had made their commanding officers so jovial. It would be sometime before the laughter died down. ~*~*~*~* Meanwhile, Hoshi, Malcolm and Travis were busy discussing the same thing. Well, actually it was more like Hoshi talking and the men listening, as most are prone to when the topic of conversation is pregnancy.  
  
"Wow, this is so exciting! I can't wait to see what affect it will have on T'Pol." The linguist concluded. Noticing that her colleagues were silent, she asked, "Whats eating you two?"  
  
"Nothing," the Brit answered, staring into his cooling cup of tea, "but I can't help wondering what Starfleet and the High Command will have to say about this."  
  
"Yeah, it's fraternization, isn't it?" Travis added. Hoshi rolled her eyes, apparently not sharing their concern.  
  
"They authorized bringing K'Vel onboard so they could get married. Her having a baby is perfectly understandable. Besides, how can you be mad at a woman for having a baby?"  
  
"True," Malcolm conceded, "But I was under the impression that . . . er . . ."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nevermind. You're right, Hoshi."  
  
"And personally," Travis began, "I think bringing K'Vel aboard is the best thing the High Command's done so far. He's the most agreeable Vulcan I've ever met."  
  
"Yeah, who would've thought a Vulcan could be so consistently polite and helpful?"  
  
"Not to mention cute."  
  
Both male officers looked at her, expressions undecipherable. Hoshi dismissed it.  
  
"Well, you guys can't see it, but he is. And he's a good husband too. He brings out the softer side of the SubCommander, and he's such a romantic."  
  
More skeptical looks. Hoshi was incredulous.  
  
"Don't you guys know their story? They've known each other since they were kids."  
  
"Well of course. All Vulcan marriages are arranged when they're young."  
  
"But he promised before she left Vulcan that he would always wait for her and come to her when she was ready. If that's not romantic for a Vulcan, I don't know what is."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"Eh, let's just say that K'Vel is also more open about his personal life than T'Pol is."  
  
Silence fell over the table, as each pondered the rationality behind the statements. Was any of it possible? Could Vulcans love? Go out of their way to make friends, like K'Vel so easily had? Wasn't it against their most basic code of life? Well, obviously there was something different about their Vulcans, because they had made friends and obviously were happy with each other, as evident by the baby on the way. *~*~*~*~*  
  
In their quarters, T'Pol and K'Vel were meditating. The light from the thick candles placed around the room cast flicking, calming shadows over their bodies. The smell of a paraffin-like substance filled the room, permeating the very souls of the two individuals situated across the small table from each other. Wordlessly and simultaneously, they both opened their eyes, coming out of their trance-like state.  
  
* "It seems that news travels very quickly among humans."*  
  
"You have no idea."* *"They truly are excited. Do they always react this way to similar events?"*  
  
*"I would not know, but I have never seen so many people smile at me."*  
  
*"It is not an unpleasant custom."*  
  
*"No, indeed. I never expected them to accept this so well."*  
  
*"Yes, no doubt you will have much support from them, especially the females."*  
  
*"What do you mean?"*  
  
*"I understand they are planning all manner of celebrations. Something about a 'baby shower'?"*  
  
Together, they climbed into the narrow bed, snugly spooned together. K'Vel wrapped his arms around his slight wife, and she shifted to make them both comfortable.  
  
*"It is strange how something completely outside their concern could immediately make them so eager to help and congratulate."* She murmured sleepily.  
  
K'Vel gave a tiny half-smile into her hair, thinking the same thing. Humans were such unpredictable creatures. 


	9. No real point to this chapter, but that ...

A/N: Okay everyone, before I start a new chapter, I need to know the answer to one very important, very simple question: Why isn't anyone reviewing?!? It's enough to make any author cry with frustration and despair. Don't you realize that I come home every day to check my e-mail specifically for reviews?! I'm dying over here because no one has left a single review to indicate that they have at least read the latest installment. In short, I'm BEGGING for reviews, flames included. JUST GIVE ME FEEDBACK!!! Thank you.  
  
"In short, SubCommander, you wish to remain on the Enterprise, and care for your child?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"We will have to discuss this. I'm sure you know that you are requesting an exemption from normal protocol, and that we reserve the right to deny it to you."  
  
T'Pol sat rigidly in front of her monitor, appearing for all the world to be her usual self. No one would guess that Ambassador Soval's statement was making her want to scream in fury and fear. It had taken her days to work up the courage to finally contact her superiors. After Soval's comment about her slightly human accent, she had taken extra precautions to make sure she appeared as "Vulcan" as possible. She knew it was foolish and illogical to believe that something as trivial as speech could make her any less of a person, but she wasn't going to take any chances. After days of meticulous preparation, she had finally done what needed to be done. "I was under the impression that such allowances have been made before."  
  
"Yes, but in those situations, the vessel was not as . . . controversial as Enterprise. There is more to be taken into account than your safety and ability to perform your duties."  
  
The SubCommander nodded, knowing full well that she would not get any more form the strict old man. After serving duty under him for a time on Earth, she had come to realize that he was more prejudiced than most. She had even come to consider him arrogant, just as he had accused her.  
  
The connection was lost, and T'Pol stood gracefully; maroon and scarlet robes rustling softly around her body. She had just come from her first real pregnancy check-up with Phlox, who had happily told her that the fetus was growing normally. He had even offered to tell her the sex of the child, but she had denied to opportunity. She enjoyed the mystery of not knowing. Besides, it didn't matter what sex her child was. She and K'Vel would love it no matter what it was. The only thing that bothered her was Soval's obvious opposition to their plans. He would most certainly give his recommendation to the High Command and press his point. She knew his opinion carried great weight, especially where Earth and the Terrans were involved.  
  
Slowly, she exited the quiet sanctuary of her quarters, heading for the bridge to carry out her shift. There seemed to be a stone in the pit of her stomach, and it wasn't the fetus. No, she knew it was dread. Dread of what would happen if the High Command didn't allow her to continue with her and K'Vel's plans, dread of having to give up all she had worked and studied for. A crewman passed her in the hall and smiled warmly at her before passing. No, it wasn't either of those that were bothering her at the moment.  
  
She was dreading another long day on the bridge in which she was certain to receive curious stares from everyone, namely the senior staff. She knew there would be a dozen new volumes on her computer regarding pregnancy, and she knew that if she should shift positions at any time, all eyes would be on her, searching for any signs of illness. Then would come the irritatingly repetitive questions,  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
"Not one 'a those faintin' spells, T'Pol?"  
  
And of course, the single most irritating pair, "Are you SURE you don't want to go down to sickbay?" and "Are you POSITIVE you don't want to go lie down?"  
  
She knew they all meant well and she appreciated their concern, but at 2 months pregnant, she didn't want or need anyone hovering over her. No, she decided, as she stepped onto the lift, noticing how the two men next to her stopped their conversation and made ample room for her. She needed a break from all the prying eyes that followed her footsteps, watching carefully lest she suddenly keel over.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Upon entering the bridge and sitting down promptly at her consol, T'Pol received the first question of the day. Hoshi warmly smiled at her as she commented,  
  
"You look a little tired, SubCommander. Anything I can do to help?"  
  
T'Pol debated with herself, considering the merits of telling the other woman that she was perfectly fine and would continue to be if certain people would stop asking pointless questions. She decided against it.  
  
"No, thank you, ensign. I am quite well."  
  
"Well, you know if you need anything, I'm here, okay?"  
  
T'Pol nodded, still analyzing the results of the long range sensor diagnostic she had run previously. She noted with some concern, that she was now able to assign names to the ever increasing variety of emotions she was experiencing. They were always faint, but definitely present. She would have to invest more time in meditation, if she hoped to survive the rest of this ordeal.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
In the armory, the lucky father-to-be and the tactical officer were discussing something rather interesting while working with a malfunctioning torpedo launcher.  
  
"Are you saying that you uninterested in women?"  
  
Reed turned a lovely shade of crimson before whispering,  
  
"It's not the way it sounds. I meant that I haven't found the one."  
  
"The one?"  
  
"You know, the ONE. The woman I want to spend my life with."  
  
"I see. Is that because you simply haven't met her, or because you don't quite know what you want in a mate?"  
  
Malcolm looked up from the grid he was working on, a puzzled look on his face.  
  
"Of course I know what I want."  
  
When K'Vel didn't respond, the Brit sighed. If anyone had previously told him that he would be asking a Vulcan for advice on women, he would have laughed himself sick.  
  
"I want a woman who can appreciate the finer things in life, who won't obsess over her looks or weight, and who won't nag me to death."  
  
"I still can't seem to see the problem."  
  
"I haven't found that type of woman yet. They're all so . . . I don't know."  
  
K'Vel was mildly amused at the poor man's expense. He simply hadn't learned that all women are the same, to some degree. He also hadn't learned to distinguish between his own preferences and those of the majority of men.  
  
"I believe the problem lies with you, Mr. Reed."  
  
"How do you mean?"  
  
The Vulcan raised an eyebrow.  
  
"You are working too hard. You focus on the human male's idealization of a woman, and thus you limit yourself to a tiny percent of your population. Tell me, when I say beautiful, intelligent, kind, and human, who do you think of?"  
  
Immediately, a vision of Hoshi popped into Malcolm's mind. He blushed deeply again under K'Vel's comprehending, intelligent gaze.  
  
"Yes," said the Vulcan, "precisely."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Several hours later, K'Vel had relieved Hoshi of her post and was manning Communications, listening into space with one ear, and monitoring his wife with the other. He had momentarily forgotten that through the link, she knew exactly what he was doing.  
  
"Stop." She ordered mentally.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You are disturbing me. I cannot work if you are constantly watching over me."  
  
"I apologize. I was merely checking on you. I am concerned."  
  
"That is illogical. We are in no danger and it is far too early to expect me to go into travail. Besides, the humans watch me as well."  
  
She could feel him smile as a wave of warm love rolled down the mental cord connecting their minds, soothing her nerves and releasing the tension in her back. "Yes, but they are not bonded to you, nor do they care for you the way I do."  
  
An image of them together in bed blossomed in T'Pol's consciousness, arousing the longing for privacy and quiet. Then, a ringing developed in her highly sensitive ears. Darkness was quickly engulfing her vision. All other sound ceased as darkness took over.  
  
As soon as K'Vel had felt her drifting away, he tore the earpiece away, spinning in the chair to see what was affecting her. He called out her name, gathering the attention of all on the bridge. The SubCommander had fainted dead away, folding out of her chair to fall onto her consol. K'Vel was at her side in a moment as Travis requested a medical team. It appeared T'Pol had just suffered the first of a long line of sudden drop-offs. Phlox arrived, and with a hypospray quickly woke her. As she struggled to come out of the peaceful darkness, the face of the ecstatic Denobulan came into full focus. Apparently, everything was proceeding normally.  
  
OK, that's it for this chapter. It's starting to become a little R/S, but I'm not going to go very far with that. Let me take the time to reiterate that I WANT/NEED REVIEWS!!!! Also, the end is near, which involves skipping about 8 months or so for a final climax and birth of the baby!! If it's a little abrupt, keep in mind that I'm ending this because no one's reading it and I have other stories to start. 


	10. Captain's Log 2

A/N: Yay!!! I have reviews again!!! Thank you so very very much to all of you who took the time to say what you think of this story. I now realize that many of you choose to read and not review, which isn't exactly what we authors want, but hey, at least you're reading! I feel so much more assured now and I have a better idea of where I stand with all of you.  
  
Now, as I'm sure you're all wondering, let's discuss the future of this rather lengthy story. I have a definite end in mind, but getting from the time that T'Pol is 2 months pregnant to ready to deliver, we have a full 8 months of space. I'm not going to dwell on those because there's only so much you can write about moody, pregnant women and the people surrounding them. Since this story revolves around T'Pol and K'Vel, we're going to get to the interesting bits and fill in the rest in the form of captain's logs, as was done in a previous chapter. And now, on with the story!!!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Jonathon Archer sat in his bed, absently going over his latest log files before turning in for the night. On his little pillow, Porthos dreamed, yipping every now and then at whatever he was chasing in those dog reveries. Archer smiled as he leaned over to better observe the twitching paws of his pet. It had been a long day, that was for sure. His mind began to wander again, and he shook his head gently. Back to business, he told himself firmly. He could ponder other things once he had finished reviewing his logs.  
  
"Computer, play logs, beginning 8/16/52." "8/16/52 Captain's Star Log; Supplimental: Nothing very interesting has happened around here for a while. We've been following an earth trade route and are hoping to come across a cargo ship, primarily because we could use some contact with our own kind. We have nothing else to do around here besides watch T'Pol. Speaking of which, our SubCommander had her first 'fainting spell' as Commander Tucker calls it. Supposedly, this kind of thing is normal and will be occurring frequently. Needless to say, our increased vigilance over her is beginning to strain her Vulcan patience. I wonder how long it will be before she snaps at one of us."  
  
The speaker chuckled to himself. Her patience thinned by the hour. There was even a pool running on how long it would take for the famed SubCommander to finally loose her Vulcan calm. Speculation on which she would blow up at was popular too. So far, the people most likely to suffer her wrath (according to Hoshi, anyway) were Trip, K'Vel, and himself. He only hoped he could stay out of her way until that point. No one, least of all the captain, wanted to be the target of T'Pol's unleashed irritation.  
  
"8/26/52 Captain's Log; Supplimental: We came across a little Andorian freighter today. They would have steered clear of us, had we not hailed them and asked for directions to the nearby red dwarf system. They glanced curiously at T'Pol the whole time. Maybe it's because she's beginning to show. Anyway, that provided for some boredom relief. Other than that, nothing much to report."  
  
"9/10/52 Captain's Log; Supplimental: We got a hail from the High Command today. Seems they weren't too keen on letting T'Pol stay: in other words, nothing unusual from them. Fortunately, one of the Command members spoke up for her, and she's being allowed to stay with us. I think that woman has a pretty strong influence. If we're lucky, they won't try to reassign T'Pol again."  
  
Archer sat back in his chair, re-living the whole encounter. It had pretty well, considering the way it could have turned out.  
  
~*~*~*~Flashback*~*~*~*~*  
  
"You wish to remove me from Enterprise?" T'Pol inquired, eyes glittering dangerously. Beside her, K'Vel stood silently, watching the events as they played out. If needed, he would step in as a mediator. Afterall, diplomacy was his specialty.  
  
"Considering your condition, SubCommander, we believe it would be for the best."  
  
"To the best of my knowledge, others have served in deep space during pregnancy."  
  
There was no argument to refute that, the High Command knew. The senior most of the five, an ancient man with a face marked by age and experience, spoke for the rest, hoping to appeal to the pride that lived, if subdued, in all Vulcans.  
  
"And what will happen when your child is born, SubCommander? Maternity is a lifestyle. How will you continue to operate as the vessel's science officer and First Officer?"  
  
T'Pol remained silent as Archer came to her rescue, "T'Pol has been able to manage several things at once in the past. And there's no reason to believe that K'Vel won't also be able to take care of the baby. I was under the impression that both parents are responsible for raising the child on Vulcan.  
  
The elder's face remained passive as he considered a new angle. He was about to speak when a younger woman stepped out from behind him. From the looks on the faces of her 4 colleagues, this was unexpected. She spoke, her voice deep and cultured from decades of oratory practice.  
  
"That is correct Captain. We only question the SubCommander's request because we do not wish to inconvenience you. You undoubtedly need a science officer, and it is a distinct possibility that SubCommander T'Pol's efforts will be less concentrated on her work and more on her new responsibilites."  
  
Archer was mildly surprised. "I have every faith that T'Pol will continue to perform to our expectations."  
  
"If you are certain, Captain, then we will not deny her request."  
  
The last comment was made with considerable authority, and T'Pol and K'Vel were just as surprised as the humans. They had expected to fight the High Command to the very end, but here was one of them, obviously a junior, who was guaranteeing their hearts' desire. T'Pol could almost feel the weight lift off her frame, but she sensed the debate was not over yet. The ancient elder spoke again, confronting the young pair with all the unspoken Vulcan prejudice.  
  
"And you plan to raise your child on the Enterprise . . . indefinitely?"  
  
T'Pol's eyes narrowed as she felt the maternal instincts rise to the challenge. K'Vel sensed her wariness, and eased a strong arm around her waist; an uncommon gesture, even for him. But he knew she needed his support, and he was going to make it known to everyone, including her superiors, that he agreed with her in the matters being discussed His hand rested protectively on her gently swelling belly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"If you don't mind my asking, how will you raise the child?"  
  
Both K'Vel and T'Pol didn't like where this was going. They both knew he was questioning the motives behind their decision to raise their infant among humans. All that was left now was for one party to openly address the issue.  
  
"We plan to raise it the traditional way, as all Vulcan young are reared." K'Vel answered in his diplomatically casual tone. His rigid stance did not support his air of indifference to the question.  
  
"Among humans?"  
  
There, that was it. T'Pol broke away from her husband, eyes sparkling terribly.  
  
"With all due respect," she began, trying desperately to keep the emotion out of her voice. The hormones surging through her body were making it increasingly more difficult, "do you mean to say that my child will be negatively affected as a result of its being born and raised for a time on the Enterprise?"  
  
The elder gazed at her, the very picture of Vulcan condescension and eccentricity. Not for the first time, T'Pol understood how some humans could dislike her kind so deeply.  
  
"I am merely speaking in the interest of your child. It would be unfortunate if it was alienated from our ways."  
  
K'Vel came to stand beside her again, leaving the bridge crew in the background. The humans watched in perfect silence for the climatic resolution of the problem.  
  
Drawing himself up to his full height and authority as an ambassador, husband, and father-to-be, K'Vel spoke forcefully, leaving no room for debate.  
  
"I assure you, we will do everything in our power to assure that our family is educated in the ancient ways of our society. We are confident, both from personal experience and documented research, that there will be no serious repercussions from our decision."  
  
The elderly man was nonplussed by the response, yet he was finding it difficult to argue. The young diplomat had skill and wore authority like a mantle around his broad shoulders. Once again, the younger female of the group came forward. She met the eyes of her colleague with a steely glance that seemed to last for an hour. Finally, the elder man took a step back, yielding at last to the authority and generally more lenient attitude of his younger counterpart.  
  
"Given the circumstances of your role and what has been said here today, the High Command has deemed your request suitable. How you raise your family is your business, and provided that it does not interfere with your work, SubCommander, you are allowed to remain in your current post."  
  
T'Pol, exhausted mentally and physically by the hormones, emotions, and sheer relief, could only show her acquiescence with a polite, respectful nod. The older woman returned the nod, and cut off the connection. An audible sigh echoed through the room as the tension dissolved. K'Vel and T'Pol shared a glance, not needing words to know both were extremely relieved.  
  
~*~*~*~*~* End Flashback *~*~*~*~  
  
Archer was shaken out of the memory by Porthos, who had now chosen to jump onto the bed; his dreams of running in earthly fields gone and forgotten. Archer petted him and talked to him for a while, still listening to the logs.  
  
"9/28/52 Captain's Star Log; Supplimental: We've sat a course for a planetary system about 12 lightyears away from our current position. Travis found it on the overnight scans this morning, and T'Pol believes it would be a good idea to take a look at it. Something about a theory she would like to test. If nothing else, it will provide for a change of scenery."  
  
"Computer, end sequence."  
  
Situating himself in the bed and making sure Porthos quieted down, the captain turned off the lights and prepared to get some seriously needed rest. Afterall, who knew what tomorrow would bring?  
  
Tbc. 


	11. Captain's Log 3 6 months later

A/N: Hey everyone, be happy: the end is in sight!!! *Waits for applause to die down a little*. Thanks for all the support and constructive criticism, as well as the wonderfully warm praise. I'm so very very very grateful! Now, about this chapter: It takes place about 6 months after chapter 10, mainly because I'm getting impatient and want to get to the good stuff, as I'm sure you do too. I've skipped from October to March, leaving our Thanksgiving, Hanukah (sp?) and Christmas, but there's nothing here that says you can't imagine those times for yourselves! Have a little fun, save me some work and file space, and use your imagination to fill in any necessary blanks. Thanks.  
  
Okay, this is about six months from the last chapter. . .  
  
Captain's Star Log; Supplimental: "It's been a long week around here. I think we've proved Murphy's Law about six separate times. Beginning last week, we came across an alien race previously unknown to both humans and Vulcans. We made first contact, and as usual, things didn't go as smoothly as planned".  
  
Captain Jonathon Archer sat at the desk in his cramped ready room, preparing to send his latest report to Starfleet HQ. The captain pinched the bridge of his nose, silently questioning the universe whether they were ever going to get a perfect first contact.  
  
"We think it was something with the UT, but we can't be sure because everything came out garbled for the aliens like it did for us. But after I introduced us, the aliens suddenly became angry and cut us off without a word. Hoshi is still trying to figure out what happened."  
  
"Which brings me to another point: Ensign Sato has been developing a new type of translator; one that doesn't require a set syntax to build off. She's been working on it in her spare time for a few months, and has requested that it be sent to Starfleet Communications with this set of logs."  
  
Archer paused as the Comm panel chirped.  
  
"Archer."  
  
"Sir, there's a message from Admiral Forrest coming in."  
  
Archer smiled to himself. That man always knew exactly when to call.  
  
"Put it through."  
  
"Yes, sir"  
  
Immediately, the image of the older man sitting at his desk in San Francisco appeared on the monitor. The image smiled at Jon, warm blue eyes shining at his long-time friend.  
  
"How are you doing, Jon?"  
  
"We're getting over a bad week, Admiral."  
  
"Oh? Something I should be concerned about?"  
  
"Hopefully not overly. I was just finishing up the last log when you called."  
  
"I see. Other than that, how is everyone? Holding up alright?"  
  
"The crew is fine, actually, more than fine." The captain said with a mysterious smile.  
  
"The Vulcans?"  
  
"They're fine too. K'Vel, the diplomat, actually kept the situations last week from getting totally out of hand. He's more than earned his keep around here."  
  
"And the SubCommander?"  
  
"She's fine too; about nine months now, and doing great, with the exception of her occasional passing-out phases."  
  
Forrest chuckled. He couldn't image how that must look. He was curious, having only known a handful of Vulcan women; and none of them very well.  
  
"She's not moody, is she? I remember when my wife was pregnant; she turned into a completely different person sometimes."  
  
Archer grinned.  
  
"I wouldn't say moody, but she does have moments where she appears irritated, to say the least. And if I didn't know any better, she and K'Vel had a marital feud just the other day."  
  
Forrest laughed, shaking his head at the image it made for him.  
  
"Married Vulcans. Must be a new adventure every day.  
  
"I'll say."  
  
~*~*~*~*Flashback to the prior week~*~*~*~*~  
  
K'Vel stood on the bridge, hands clasped behind his back in the typical Vulcan fashion. Beside him stood Archer, trying to see how exactly the Vulcan was going to get them out of this one. As apparent by the expression on the face of the alien in front of them, they had screwed up again, big time.  
  
Archer leaned over imperceptibly, murmuring in a low voice, "What exactly did we do?"  
  
K'Vel never took his gaze off the violet humanoid in front of them, who was now scowling, making deep creases in his cheeks.  
  
"I don't know, Captain, but I intend to find out."  
  
Under normal circumstances, Archer would be in the tricky position, but Hoshi and Trip had persuaded him to let K'Vel try this one. After six months of having K'Vel on board, they decided maybe he should be the one to initiate first contact. And who knew, maybe the captain would actually learn something about diplomacy.  
  
"I am Ambassador K'Vel of the planet Vulcan. On behalf of the human ship Enterprise, we would like to be informed of our offenses."  
  
The alien glowered some more, but then barked out something totally incomprehensible. Hoshi's fingers flew at lightning speed over her consol. Archer turned to look at her, and was dismayed at the sight of a frown on her beautiful face.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir. The UT can't build off his syntax. I can try a verbal translation, if you want."  
  
Archer nodded, thin-lipped in mild frustration. Hoshi cautiously spoke something, and then sat back down at her consol, fooling more with the UT, however futile it might be. The alien spoke back, and all eyes (save the Vulcan diplomat's) turned to the linguist.  
  
"He said the exhaust we vented earlier this morning from the engines disrupted a very important experiment."  
  
K'Vel spoke next, voice deep and authoritative. "We had no intention of disrupting anything. We didn't know there was anyone out here until you hailed us."  
  
Hoshi spoke the translation; by now confident that she could communicate reasonably well with the grouchy extraterrestrial. The alien spoke back, and Hoshi winced as his barking language filled the room. He seemed even more agitated than before.  
  
"What did he say?" The Captain demanded. Hoshi looked flustered, like she always did when a conversation didn't go too well.  
  
"He said they we're testing the strength of a new hybrid bacteria. Our exhaust killed them."  
  
For the first time, K'Vel turned away from the screen and faced his wife. As if pulled by a string, her head snapped up to meet the questioning glances of her husband and captain. Before she could say a word, Malcolm's brisk British accent rang out across the bridge.  
  
"They're charging weapons!"  
  
"Tell them we're peaceful!" Archer said, back into full command mode. Hoshi did so, and the alien appeared to hesitate for a moment. It looked at K'Vel, obviously expecting an explanation."  
  
"We represent peaceful races, and we did not terminate your bacteria purposefully. If you wish, we would be happy to rectify the situation in any way we can."  
  
Archer looked at him with raised eyebrows, but didn't say anything about the Vulcan's broad promise. He obviously was heading somewhere. The alien looked at them again, apparently somewhat appeased. When he spoke again, his tone was slightly less harsh.  
  
"He wants us to leave immediately, and tell anyone else in the near vicinity not to release anything into space."  
  
"K'Vel nodded regally. "We will accommodate that request. On behalf of the people of Earth and Vulcan, we extend our apologies."  
  
Now the alien was really pleased. He smiled a smile that could rival Phlox's.  
  
"He's pleased, sir. He hopes there are no hard feelings."  
  
K'Vel stepped out of the foreground, giving the stage back to Archer.  
  
"Tell him there are none." The captain said, sitting back in his chair. Hoshi did so, and the transmission was ended. Archer gave the command, and they went to Warp 3 and left the area.  
  
"If that wasn't the most drastic mood swing I've ever seen . . ." drawled Trip.  
  
Travis sighed. He rarely spoke on the bridge unless spoken to, but that sigh pretty much summed up the feelings of everyone in the room.  
  
With the situation now resolved, Hoshi could feel the tension drain slowly out of her shoulders and neck. She never liked tense situations, especially when they were directly involved with her line of work. Archer sat back in his command chair and looked thoughtfully at K'Vel. This guy had almost unlimited potential in the diplomatic field. He wondered if maybe he could make a recommendation to Starfleet to request K'Vel's attachment to the Vulcan consulate on Earth. Certainly he would help smooth things over between Soval and other Starfleet officials. After this mission, of course. He would never separate the couple living aboard his ship.  
  
The man of whom the captain thought was now moving over to his wife's consol. Her dark head was gracefully inclined to offer a better view of her monitor. In one smooth movement, she swiveled to use the instruments at her back. K'Vel waited for her to turn around again. When it was clear that she would not do so for a while, he spoke up.  
  
"It is strange that your scans showed nothing pertaining to the ailens' experiment."  
  
"Yes. I am trying to isolate the spores right now."  
  
"What is so different about them that you did not know of them earlier?"  
  
His question was meant to come off innocently, but perhaps they had both been spending too much free time around their human counterparts. T'Pol swiveled neatly back to her main consol, and fixed him with an icy stare. Hoshi and Malcolm exchanged glances. If there ever would be cause for a marital problem between these two, it was this. No one ever questioned T'Pol's scientific abilities. Out of the corners of their eyes, they watched what would happen with typically human curiosity.  
"The long-range sensors are not designed to detect organisms as miniscule as bacteria. Their function is to isolate larger variations in the area ahead of us, which includes lifeless phenomena or more developed life forms."  
  
K'Vel was silent as he contemplated this. He knew without speaking that he had offended her. He silently wondered if this was a side affect of the pregnancy, or perhaps she was picking up on subtle human behavior. He had to make amends. Silence reigned on the bridge for several excruciatingly long seconds. The humans, particularly Hoshi and Travis, found it increasingly difficult to keep from fidgeting. Neither wanted to draw the attention of the couple. During the silent time, husband and wife stared at each other. Malcolm thought it was the strangest and most extreme contest of wills he had ever seen. He greatly admired K'Vel for having the courage to put up such a brave front against his formidable wife.  
  
But the humans were mistaken. What was happening was not a contest of wills; rather, it was systematic problem solving in a less than traditional method. Conscious of their companions, the Vulcans had retreated into their mental link to work this miscommunication out.  
  
"It was not my intention to offend you or question your abilities."  
  
"You are mistaken; I am not offended."  
  
Inwardly, K'Vel shook his head at her obstinacy. It was clear she was not going to make this easy. It appeared he would have to use diplomatic strategies on his own wife. Not that he minded apologizing; he had a feeling this was a result of the pregnancy and her extended time among humans. She had certainly become much closer to a few of them over the past year and a half.  
  
"Of course not. Still, my question was inappropriate, and I apologize for questioning you in front of the crew."  
  
He stopped and waited for her response. Although her face retained its normal blank expression, he could see the hard glint dimming from her polished mahogany eyes. Her mental stance was less rigid, and he knew he had reached her.  
  
"I should not have reacted the way I did. It was also inappropriate. I realize your comment was innocent."  
  
"Perhaps it was an effect of the pregnancy?" he suggested tenderly. He knew better than to broach the subject of possible human effects.  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
T'Pol retreated into herself, pondering her husband's question. It was true she had reacted unusually. She knew he probably thought the humans were affecting her, but was pleased that he did not bring it up, most likely for fear of upsetting her again. She knew it was not the humans. Yes, she had been spending a good deal of time with them, especially off duty. She had even begun to have more personal relationships with a few of them, namely Ensign Sato.  
  
She pondered some more as K'Vel exited the bridge. He knew she was lost in her own thoughts now, trying to locate the source of her unusually emotional behavior. All was well between them again, and he would leave her to her thoughts.  
  
The humans were totally clueless as to what had just happened. Had K'Vel conceded? Was he walking away without having resolved the issue? Was there even an issue? The captain (and of course everyone else on board) was positive there was. He was certain that T'Pol was peeved. Apparently, spending more time with her better enabled him to decipher the Vulcan woman's moods. But the couple hadn't even said a word to each other after K'Vel's delicate question. Everyone knew the SubCommander was famously stubborn, but wouldn't it be illogical to prolong a fight?  
  
Shaking his head, Archer put it out of mind. A marital feud was none of her business. With new resolve not to be caught up in the personal lives of his crew, he accessed one of the panels on his armrest and got to work.  
  
~*~*~*~*End Flashback~*~*~*~*  
  
"Jon?"  
  
"Hmm. . . sorry, just thinking."  
  
"I'm sure you got a lot to think about. I'll let you get back to work now, and don't forget to send me that report. I want to know what's been happening out there."  
  
"Yes sir, I'll get it to you as soon as I can."  
  
"Take care, Jon."  
  
"You too. Archer out." 


	12. Oh No

A/N: Only a few more chapters to go. And remember, I am expecting reviews!!! Praise, criticism, flames, I don't care!! Just give me feedback. Thank you.  
  
At her science station, T'Pol was still trying to locate the elusive variable that had made her behave so . . . human. Her computer was running a long, detailed scan of the area; providing her plenty of time to think. The only consistent thing that came to mind was her ever-present thoughts of her child. It was truly an awe-inspiring set of thoughts. She had never before considered the prospect of motherhood very seriously. But now, she couldn't help thinking of seemingly trivial things. Things like baby names and how she would organize herself to be able to care for her child but still have time for all the other responsibilities demanded of her.  
  
It was also a very daunting prospect. Would she be a good mother? Being the youngest of her parents' children denied her the experience of caring for the young. All she had to draw upon were memories of her father and mother's parenting techniques. She almost had resorted to worrying. Worrying over the things she ate; how often and well she slept; the list was endless. She was still concerned over the idea of raising a child in space, and on a human ship no less, but those concerns were milder. The crew respected her and K'Vel's way of life, and had made it clear that they would not interfere in the education of the little one. She also knew that they would protect it as she and K'Vel would.  
  
The crew, especially the females, she mused, had been a blessing. They seemed to know all there was to know about children, though most of them were unmarried and none of them had children. When she had asked about the source of their wealth of knowledge, they had smiled and told her it was all in the context of "woman talk". Hoshi in particular had become most helpful. She seemed to have lost the irritatingly over-zealous curiosity and was now always willing to discuss T'Pol's thoughts and answer her questions as best she could.  
  
They often had their chats during lunch, when both women were often off duty. They exchanged cultural information, and it was always comforting to be spoken to in Vulcan. Months before, the SubCommander had discarded her famous uniform for the looser, more traditional clothing of civilians. Time had passed, and her belly began to swell. Surprisingly, she wasn't very large, even as she approached her ninth month. She carried much of the weight in the back, and it appeared that her child would be small.  
  
"Unusually small?" She had asked the doctor. He smiled and shook his head.  
  
"Oh no, not unusual at all. It will just be on the smaller side in the normal range of newborn sizes."  
  
She nodded; relieved. The child was growing normally, and that was all she and K'Vel wanted.  
  
T'Pol returned to herself when a familiar, drawling voice permeated her recollection.  
  
"Hey, SubCommander, 'you awake?" Joked Trip Tucker. Of all the people on board, he undoubtedly had the most fun at her expense, especially over the past few months. She had noted how he, K'Vel, and Captain Archer had all become very close. They spent a good deal of time together. From what she was told, her husband was becoming an expert on water polo. K'Vel now also regularly took her place on away missions, leaving her in command of the starship more often than not.  
  
"Yes, Commander."  
  
"Well, ya coulda fooled me; you look miles away. And By the way," he added, gesturing towards her consol, "yer scan's finished."  
  
She started, looking down at her consol quickly. Another lapse in concentration. Perhaps she had better take to time to further focus on meditation.  
  
Trip smiled at her Vulcan embarrassment. Because he was sure that was what it was. She was so much fun to tease, even though he was being careful with what he said to her. He didn't know much about pregnant women, and the last thing he wanted to do was upset her and harm the baby. He and Malcolm had agreed that pregnant women were mysteries and not to be trifled with. Occasionally, they asked K'Vel how she was doing, to which the diplomat replied with vague amusement. He always found their barely masked awe of pregnant females entertaining.  
  
He continued to do as he had since coming aboard Enterprise. He helped out where help was needed, and recently had been teaching Captain Archer the Vulcan methods of diplomacy, in the hopes that it would make first contacts more successful. Of course, more often than not, Archer didn't use those lessons in the field, but at least he was gaining a better understanding of how and why Vulcan did things.  
  
Her analysis complete, T'Pol transferred her finding to a PADD before her thoughts got away from her again. Ever the epitome of grace, she rose carefully in swish of her dark purple robes, left her consol with her usual brisk speed; heading for the Ready Room. She still had a job to do, and speculation would have to come later.  
  
She tapped the button to announce her presence.  
  
"Come in."  
  
The door swooshed open to admit her. Archer was standing by the window, gazing at the streaking stars. T'Pol wryly wondered how much time he spent actually doing work while on duty.  
  
"I have completed my scans of the systems surrounding us. There are three M- class planets 4.1 lightyears away. One of them has a Vulcan outpost on it."  
  
He turned to look at her, the gleam in his eyes betraying his unfaltering excitement. It was one thing she always found amazing about him. She had never known anyone so satisfied with his work.  
  
"Civilizations?"  
  
"We are still too far away to tell. Shall I begin scanning when we are in range?"  
  
"When will that be?"  
  
"At our current speed, in less than two hours."  
  
Archer glanced at the chronometer on the computer. It was already 21:16. T'Pol's shift had ended thirty minutes ago. He smiled at her softly. No one could ever say that she gave less than her all.  
  
"That's alright. Why don't you turn in? I'll have Crewman Carey take over for you."  
  
"I am not tired."  
  
"T'Pol, you're due in less than a week. You need your rest."  
  
She still looked like she wouldn't comply easily. Knowing her, Archer mused, she would just work in her quarters into the early hours of the morning. Little did he know that rest what exactly what T'Pol was craving. She had been having trouble getting comfortable at night, and as a result would lie awake for hours. But she didn't mind. She had come to cherish the hours spent in her husband's arms. She derived more pleasure in watching K'Vel as he slept than she would like to admit. She would rest her head in the crook of his shoulder and place her hand on his chest, watching it rise and fall in the rhythm of his deep breathing. Her long, slender finger would trace the line of his jaw, or the curve of his ear. She had never known more contented moments.  
  
"Very well. Thank you, captain."  
  
"Don't mention it." He replied as her pushed her gently toward the door.  
  
"Goodnight." She said.  
  
" 'See you in the morning." came the reply.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
As anticipated, it seemed T'Pol would not fall asleep until much later that night. And, as usual, she didn't mind. Well, at least not too much. She rested on her side, gently stroking her belly. As if responding to her touch, the child in her womb shifted. T'Pol almost smiled at the feeling. But her half reverie was interrupted by the captain's slightly groggy voice over the Comm.  
  
"All senior staff, report to the bridge."  
  
Reluctantly, she slid out of the circle of K'Vel's arms and crossed the short space to her closet. Dressing quickly, she was about to leave when she felt arms circling her in the dark, holding her gently against a firm body. It took much of her discipline to refrain from sinking into him.  
  
"What it is?"  
  
"I do not know. Go back to sleep."  
  
He kissed the nape of her neck sensually, and T'Pol had to tell herself numerous times to move before she actually did.  
  
She was the third to arrive on the bridge, the first two being the captain and Lieutenant Reed. She was quickly followed by Commander Tucker and Ensign Sato, as well as Doctor Phlox. Travis had been on duty, and was the most awake of anyone.  
  
"Cap'n what's goin' on?" Trip drawled thickly. Hoshi smothered a yawn.  
  
By way of an answer, Archer turned slightly bleary eyes towards his First Officer.  
  
"Remember that planet with the Vulcan outpost?"  
  
"Of course." She answered. She acknowledged the uncomfortable tightening of her throat. It was then she realized her back was aching too. She arched it imperceptibly, trying to relieve the throbbing.  
  
"Ensign Dawrey picked up a weak distress signal. We've tried scanning the facilities, but there must be some kind of interference messing up the signal."  
  
As the senior crew pondered this new potential crisis, Phlox moved forward and hummed to himself in thought. Under other circumstances, Archer would have smiled at the Doctor's endearing idiosyncrasies, but not now.  
  
"Doctor?" he inquired, impatience coloring his tone. The Denobulan didn't seem to notice.  
  
"There is an ion storm moving across the western plain, just a few hundred kilometers from the compound."  
  
"That is most likely causing the interference." T'Pol agreed.  
  
"Bio signs?" Travis asked.  
  
Malcolm shook his head, arms crossed. "None that we can detect, but that doesn't necessarily mean 'no'."  
  
"Somebody needs ta go down an' knock on the door." Trip said. His expression begged to be allowed to volunteer. The captain, being his long- time friend, knew that look in an instant. He was just about to open his mouth when Phlox spoke first. Apparently, the doctor had also heard the implied plea.  
  
"I'm afraid that will be impossible, Commander. The air is too thin for you to breathe."  
  
There was a moment of silence as the best-looking option died. No one spoke when their minds worked to the next conclusion. No one that is, except T'Pol.  
  
"I will go down." She said decisively.  
  
"Absolutely not." her captain countered firmly. This was strengthened by the protests of everyone else, especially Hoshi. But surprisingly, the good doctor just watched the events play out. He knew that it all likelihood; it would have to be T'Pol.  
  
"It is the logical choice." She argued.  
  
"K'Vel can go." The human shot back.  
  
"He is a diplomat."  
  
"And you're pregnant. Very pregnant, I might add."  
  
"That is irrelevant. This is a research facility. If there is no one on the surface, someone needs to be able to discern whether or not a planetary element had any part in whatever happened."  
  
"Planetary element?" Archer asked. He didn't like where this was going, and he knew without a doubt that K'Vel wouldn't either.  
  
"We cannot rule out the possibilities of an accident in the experiments. Documentation is imperative, and if it was not produced by the scientists before whatever happened, I am the only person within several lightyears who can."  
  
She stopped, waiting to see if he would yield to her powerful logic. She knew it was risky; but she would not shirk her duties. Archer pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking hard for any other excuse to keep her onboard. He turned to the doctor, who was still silent.  
  
"Is it safe for her to go down? Nothing will affect the baby?"  
  
"No, don't believe so. But she can use an EV suit; just in case." He grinned at T'Pol. "She should still be able to fit into one."  
  
His second argument shot to hell, Archer tried one last approach. "I think you need to speak to K'Vel about this."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Are you out of your mind?" He demanded. Though his face was passive, T'Pol knew very well that he was dangerously close to fear and anger.  
  
"There is no alternative, and you know it."  
  
"I could go."  
  
"You do not have the scientific skills needed for this."  
  
"You are carrying a child. Our child."  
  
"The doctor has assured me that there will not be any repercussions. I will be wearing an environmental suit as well."  
  
"And you think that will protect you? What if the reason for all this is a lifeform? Some kind of predator?"  
  
"The database maintains that the planet is barely Minshara class. It only sustains microorganisms that are of no consequence and creatures that can survive on thinner air"  
  
"Like us."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Her husband appeared to battling himself, torn between his wish to protect his family and to let his wife do her job.  
  
T'Pol knew she had won when he visibly lost his argumentative stance and embraced her. She took a deep breath, inhaling his clean, unique scent.  
  
"How long will you be gone?" He murmured, soft lips brushing the point of her ear.  
  
"If I can gather the information before the ion storm arrives, not more than a few hours."  
  
He pulled back to look her in the eyes, his nose millimeters from hers. Then he kissed her passionately, and T'Pol was almost overwhelmed by the feelings of love, devotion, and helplessness radiating from his mind to hers. He pulled away, and cupped her face in his large, warm palms.  
  
"Take care of yourself, my wife."  
  
"I will. I promise you."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
No more than half an hour later, T'Pol was set down on the planet surface. She longed to take the helmet off and smell fresh air, but decided against it. One couldn't be too careful. Studying her scanner, she determined her whereabouts, and began walking to the compound.  
  
It was a good 3 kilometers, and by the end she was breathing rather heavily. Coming to the courtyard of the facility, she scanned for bodies. When there were none to be found, so she searched the buildings. They were all empty, and the living quarters were tidy. It almost seemed that the scientists had left voluntarily, but that was incongruous with the distress signal.  
  
Finally, she went into the main research building and began searching for the records of the facility. While she sat reviewing them, she noticed that her back pain had not gone away. In fact, it was slightly more powerful. She massaged her lower back briefly, but the effects were lessened by the suit she wore. After a period of 3 hours, she began to feel irritated. There was nothing to suggest an accident or a problem with the environment. It seemed more and more plausible that the facility had been recently abandoned and that the beacon had gone off accidentally.  
  
Not pleased with the prospect of spending more time on the planet than was necessary, T'Pol activated her comm.  
  
"T'Pol to Enterprise."  
  
"Go ahead, SubCommander." Hoshi responded.  
  
"There is nothing of consequence to report. There are no bodies and there is no evidence of any accident or problem. I believe the compound was abandoned and the beacon triggered unintentionally."  
  
"Well, that's good to know." came the captain's voice. But there was something wrong.  
  
"Um, T'Pol, I hate to say this, but . . ."  
  
"Yes, captain?" came her irritated reply.  
  
"The ion storm is moving faster than we thought. We can't get down there in time to bring you back up. Think you can stay down there for a few more hours?"  
  
T'Pol, whose back was aching badly now, wanted very much to say 'no'. But that would have been improper. She was trained to deal with pain. She would simply have to bear it.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"We'll contact you as soon as we can get a shuttlepod down there."  
  
"Acknowledged. T'Pol out."  
  
Resigning herself to the fact that she would have to remain there for quite some time, T'Pol changed her used air supply pack for a new one. Just as she had finished adjusting it, she felt a warm gush of liquid flowing down from between her legs. She stood in shock for a few moments, not fully comprehending what had just happened. And the she felt the first of many sharp pulls in her abdomen.  
  
She fought hard not to make a sound as the pain rippled through her body, regardless of the fact that no one could hear her. And it was then that the full impact of her predicament hit her. Her water had just broken, and the pain in her back for the past few hours had been minor contractions. Now, she had just had her first real contraction, a sign that her child was on its way. And she was alone. Completely alone, in an EV suit, with an ion storm between her and Enterprise. And for the first time since she could remember, T'Pol was truly frightened 


	13. The Birth

Okay people, I hate to say this, but review rates are beginning to decline again. Let's not make me repeat my unhappy rant from a few chapters back. To those of you who took the time to review, my greatest thanks! I have never given birth, so my descriptions are based solely on what I've seen in movies and learned in my anatomy class. Also, I know nothing of trek lore, so everything pertaining to Vulcan customs is completely made up and mine. If you want to borrow something, please ask. Hehe, bet you all weren't expecting the little twist at the end of Ch. 12, huh? Anyway, here we go!  
  
0630 hours  
  
As T'Pol came to this horrifying realization, K'Vel was in Sickbay, being given a vaccine booster. Though she was too far away for direct contact, the wave of panic hit him like a bus. His head flew back as his entire body froze in complete fear. Phlox, who was in his office making an update to K'Vel's medical file, heard a gasp. Knowing such a thing to be thoroughly un-Vulcan, he dashed back to the biobed where K'Vel was seated, eyes glazed in fear.  
  
"K'Vel? What happened?" The Denobulan asked as he ran his scanner over the man.  
  
The glaze slowly melted from the diplomat's eyes, but the almost distinguishable look of panic was still there.  
  
"T'Pol." He croaked. Then louder, as if coming back to himself, "T'Pol." He pushed himself of the biobed and strode towards the door. But Phlox wasn't quite ready to release him yet. Taking his arm to prevent him from walking out of Sickbay, the doctor said,  
  
"It appears you just had some kind of attack. I'm afraid I cannot release you just yet."  
  
But K'Vel was in no mood. His normally pleasant face adopted hard lines of determination and conviction.  
  
"That was no attack, Doctor. Something has happened to my wife."  
  
"If something had happened, no doubt I would have been informed by now. Her bio sign is being carefully monitored by the captain himself." Phlox reasoned.  
  
K'Vel was not convinced in the least. He had never been exposed to such naked fear and need, and he knew that it took an uncanny amount to disturb T'Pol.  
  
"You are wrong." The Vulcan reiterated, pulling away from Phlox's grasp.  
  
"I haven't released you yet."  
  
K'Vel was about to argue when the comm. sounded.  
  
"Archer to Sickbay. Phlox and K'Vel, report to the bridge."  
  
K'Vel looked expectantly at Phlox, trying hard to keep from showing his impatience. Against his better judgment, the doctor released his hold on the other man and followed him to the turbolift.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
On the bridge, Archer immediately turned to the entering men, concern written all over his grim face.  
  
"T'Pol's on the line. She wants to speak to you."  
  
Over the open comm., T'Pol haggard voice came through.  
  
"Doctor."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I . . ."  
  
"What is it, T'Pol?" K'Vel asked, the barest hint of desperation in his voice.  
  
"My labor has begun."  
  
A shock silence reigned over the bridge as everyone processed this information. T'Pol had gone into labor, on an abandoned Vulcan research facility, all alone, in the middle of an ion storm. "Oh God." Was the unanimous thought, excluding the atheist Vulcan husband, of course. As if a bucket of icy water had been poured over them, they all began to speak at once after the initial shock. Are you having contractions? How long? Is it really bad? Instantly snapping into full command mode, Archer rounded on the ensign at the science consol.  
  
"Can we get a shuttlepod down there?"  
  
"No sir", the tall, lanky woman squeaked. "The ion storm is still too bad."  
  
"How about the transporter?" He demanded next, whirling around to face Malcolm at tactical.  
  
"I wouldn't advise it, captain." Phlox said gravely from the other end of the room. "It is too dangerous, with the ion storm and the labor."  
  
"Then what do we do?" demanded Archer of his chief medical officer. He was terrified and silently berating himself for having let her go down there at all.  
  
"Typically, Vulcan labors last for several hours. If I can coach T'Pol through the next few until the storm abates, she should be fine. Then we can attempt a rescue"  
  
"Should be?" T'Pol asked over the comm, her voice stronger than it had been previously.  
  
"Yes," K'Vel interjected. "She was not supposed to go into travail so early. Can we truly predict the next few hours accurately?"  
  
Meeting his piercing gaze, Phlox sighed in frustration.  
  
"We have no other options."  
  
He glanced at Archer, who looked like he was about to pass out. On cue, he sagged heavily into his command chair and put a hand over his eyes, trying to block out the painful light and the situation at hand. Phlox interpreted his silence to be a silent consent, and addressed T'Pol over the comm. again.  
  
"How acute is the pain?"  
  
"Quite acute. I can feel each individual contraction."  
  
"Has the amniotic sac broken yet?"  
  
"Only just."  
  
He seemed relieved by this, and his countenance improved a little.  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"The living quarters."  
  
"I would advise you to lie down and keep your EV suit on for as long as you can. Just in case."  
  
"Understood."  
  
"And T'Pol, . . ."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Try to relax. You are a very strong woman. You can do this, just as countless others have before you."  
  
"Those others were not stranded alone in an abandoned compound during an ion storm." She retorted dryly.  
  
Phlox smiled, pleased that the pain had not numbed her quick wit and keen tongue.  
  
"Another fist, then. Keep calm and all will be well."  
  
"I will try. T'Pol out."  
  
The connection broken, K'Vel finally said something. He had maintained silence in the hopes that it would prevent T'Pol from realizing how upset he was. He could vaguely feel her through the link, and could tell that the panic was gone. Stepping into the foreground of the captain's chair, he made his request.  
  
"I would like to be part of the rescue team, when the storm clears."  
  
Looking up for the first time since he sat down, Archer smiled weakly at his friend.  
  
"I'm surprised you didn't throw a fit or pass out." He admitted, shaking his head. "Of course you can be part of the team."  
  
K'Vel nodded his head curtly, and turned to Phlox.  
  
"It seems I did not have an attack." He said pointedly.  
  
Phlox's smile was somewhat confused. Were the stories of Vulcan telepathic abilities really true? As he watched K'Vel leave the bridge, he pondered that possibility. It would make a wonderful addition to the interspecies medical journal, if he could ever find proof. Taking control of his mind before it lead him down some random path, he situated himself on the bridge. It was going to be a long day.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
On the surface, T'Pol was lying on her back on the bed in one of the living quarters as the storm raged outside. The panic was gone, but the apprehension was not. In a few short hours, her child would be born. To be completely honest, she truly was unprepared for what would happen next. She had often thought about the actual labor and was not very uncomfortable with it, but the very idea of being a mother was quickly sinking in. From this day forward, her child would cease to be a part of her body. It would be a genetically unique individual that would be completely dependent on K'Vel, he, and its surroundings. How would she react to her child when it was upset? Or happy? Would she have the patience to teach it to meditate and control its volatile emotions? But those weren't the questions that truly bothered her. She wanted to know how she would FEEL towards her child. Would she love it, as the humans believed she would? Or would she be indifferent, as all Vulcans were supposed to be to one another? As another contraction, stronger than any of its predecessors, started in her back and worked its way through her, she found it difficult to focus on these questions. They simply required too much logical thought, and at a time like this she was not ready to re-impose rigorous discipline on her mind. So, in the way that she had been trained since childhood, she accepted the pain, letting her muscles relax to allow the waves to pass through her as easily as possible. Hours past, and aside from the periodic questions of Doctor Phlox, she was left to herself in silence. To pass the time, she turned her attention to a long neglected task. In the Vulcan tradition, mothers named their children. T'Pol had never actually sat down to think about potential names. She wasn't even sure where to begin. Any given name had several meanings to her people. It was believed that names defined personality and character. Needless to say, it was vitally important that she choose the correct name. There were several that could possible do: T'Los, Mentir, and Sota were a few of her preferences. But she simply couldn't decide on one.  
  
"Archer to T'Pol." The captain interrupted her musings.  
  
Trying to move as little as possible, T'Pol reached for her communicator. With the reluctant approval of the doctor, she had discarded the EV suit and was only wearing the undersuit. The logic behind this was that if necessary, she could easily tear the suit and deliver the child herself. Her pain was most definitely constant, and her legs had spread instinctively in response to the descending fetus. She could feel the weight of it sinking into the lower area of her womb, moving steadily deeper into the birth canal.  
  
"Yes, captain."  
  
"The storm is clearing and we're sending a team down to get you. They'll be landing in the courtyard on the north side of the compound."  
  
"Acknowledged."  
  
She lay still for several long moments, dreading getting up and moving towards the back of the compound. She knew it wasn't very far, maybe 30 meters. But she had recently become very well acquainted with pain, and did not want to inflict any more upon herself than was absolutely necessary. Slowly and with no excessive movements, she stood, picked up the suit, and made her way cautiously through the compound.  
  
When the second shuttlepod landed, K'Vel was the first out of the hatch. Upon seeing his laboring wife in the distance, he closed the gap with a sprint. Scooping her up into his arms, he quickly brought her back to the shuttlepod and gave the order to take off. Seated on his lap, T'Pol patiently awaited the inevitable. She didn't have to wait long.  
  
"I though you promised to take care of yourself."  
  
"Given the sudden turn of events, I believe I honored that promise." She answered tartly, trying to mask the pain as another seemingly endless contraction tore through her. Vaguely, a small part of her mind realized that the contractions were now approximately 8 minutes apart. Her attempts were futile as K'Vel was actually holding her, so he knew exactly what she was experiencing. It quickly erased all irritation he had felt, leaving concern and devotion in its wake. Discreetly placing his hand in hers, he sent a quenching fire through her, easing the pain a little. T'Pol bit back a sigh as the temporary relief swelled through her aching back and abdomen as the shuttlepod entered Docking Port 2.  
  
She was lifted out of the shuttle and carried by her husband all the way to Sickbay. On the way, numerous crewmen and women stopped to offer encouraging smiles and words. The contractions were coming faster now, and K'Vel nearly ran the rest of the way. Phlox was waiting in a secluded spot of the medical facility beside a specially modified bio-bed, courtesy of Commander Tucker. He was already robed in a surgical gown and gloved, standing beside a tray of recently sterilized instruments. K'Vel gently lowered the SubCommander onto the bed as Phlox helped her out of the undersuit. Giving her hand a last squeeze and a mental kiss, he left sickbay without a word to anyone.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
K'Vel went back to the bridge, calling on every shred of discipline he had to keep himself from dashing back to T'Pol's side. Traditionally, fathers were not allowed to see the births of their children. It was an ancient custom dating back to prehistoric times, and K'Vel personally found it pointless. Yet T'Pol had insisted on it, if only to prove their intention of raising their child according to Vulcan methods.  
  
Gliding silently onto the bridge and to his wife's vacant station, no one noticed him for several minutes.  
  
"K'Vel, what the hell are ya doin' here?!" Trip exclaimed from the tactical station.  
  
"Shouldn't ya be down there with T'Pol?!"  
  
Though no other questions were posed, K'Vel knew the others were thinking the same thing. Hoshi's deadly glare was equally challenging as the Commander's tone. Inwardly, K'Vel was pleased with how protective they were of his mate.  
  
"I would if I could, Commander."  
  
"What do you mean by that?" Hoshi demanded.  
  
K'Vel resisted the urge to sigh and massage his aching temples. He had not meditated since the previous day, and it was beginning to affect him. The fact that his child was presently entering the world did nothing to soothe him.  
  
"It is against our tradition." He explained tiredly.  
  
"How so?" Captain Archer asked, emerging from his Ready Room. Archer looked just as tired as K'Vel felt. Apparently, he would not rest until the whole ordeal was over with either.  
  
"In our traditions, husbands are not permitted to witness the births of their children. I personally believe it is an outdated and obsolete practice, but T'Pol insisted."  
  
This explanation seemed to appease the agitated humans. They relaxed back into their chairs and asked no more questions. All appeared to be working, but personally each was going through memories of births in their heads. The bachelors, namely Trip, Jon, and Travis, were terrified of the very idea and tried not to dwell on it too long. Hoshi, however, had seen her share of births and labors and knew all there was to know. She knew the first time was almost always the worst, but prudently decided to keep that information to herself. The rest of the morning was spent waiting for news under the façade of actually doing work  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Meanwhile, in Sickbay, the time was fast approaching. Phlox informed T'Pol that she was dilated ten centimeters, and she calculated that the contractions were now five minutes apart. Behind her sat Ensign Elizabeth Cutler, who was serving as her nurse and support. Through each contraction, T'Pol held her breath and pushed, working hard not to make a sound. Each time, she was told to push harder and longer, and it became impossibly difficult. Finally, after what seemed like an agonizing eternity, Phlox gleefully exclaimed that she was crowning, and with one last mighty push the child was born.  
  
Immediately T'Pol could feel a great reduction in her weight and the pressure in her body. She sagged against Elizabeth, who caught her and smiled joyously into her tired face. T'Pol wanted nothing more then to succumb into blissful sleep, but something happened that changed her life forever. From the foot of the biobed, where the doctor was tying off the umbilical cord came a tiny cry, the first sigh of life. It was strangled and weak, coming from undeveloped and unused vocal chords, but it didn't matter.  
  
T'Pol immediately sat up, trying to find her child in the blinding light of the facility. But Phlox had taken it into the main room to be cleaned and measured.  
  
"You're not through yet, SubCommander." Cutler told her, calling her back to the matter at hand,  
  
"What?" T'Pol asked dazedly.  
  
"The placenta." Elizabeth said gently. T'Pol remembered, and with the ensign's help the afterbirth was quickly delivered as well. It only took a few minutes, and as Elizabeth disappeared to dispose of it, Phlox returned with a tiny blanket wrapped bundle. He paused in front on T'Pol, smiling the single widest smile she had ever seen him wear.  
  
"Congratualtions, SubCommander T'Pol." He said joyously. And without further pretense, placed her infant into her waiting arms. When she saw its face, she was immediately struck by how much it reminded her of someone. Thinking hard, she recalled an old meditation instructor.  
  
She and K'Vel had both been under his tutorage as very young children. They had been no more than seven or eight years of age, if she remembered correctly. He was the most patient and empathetic individual she had ever known. Always trying to help them achieve total inner peace, despite their childlike impatience and unruliness. Yet, she remembered, he was also a very powerful, imposing man. Very tall in her memory, he wore power and knowledge like a mantle, very much in the same was as K'Vel did. That man had been a mentor and role model, but he was the first person to make T'Pol feel completely at ease with herself. He knew her shortcomings and acknowledged them, and he asked her to rise above them to become the woman she was destined to be.  
  
Drawn out of her momentary reverie by the slight movement in her arms, T'Pol looked back down at her child, studying it closely. The tiny round face was accented by a pointed chin and tiny, perfectly pointed ears. A shock of fine, blue-black hair covered its head, and a tiny, tightly closed fist was pressed to its minute cheek. Yes, she concluded, it looked very much like her old mentor. Suddenly remembering something very important, she unwrapped a corner of the blanket. A male. She had a son.  
  
Words could not describe what T'Pol felt at that precise moment. The emotions surging through her were not entirely foreign, but they were different. She had never felt this way before, not even since marrying K'Vel. She knew that she would not be indifferent to this child as she was to other people. Outwardly, she would maintain the respectable detachment befitting Vulcan parents, but she made a promise that her little one would never doubt her love. For that was what it was; love. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes before she could prevent them, garnering tears from the on-looking Ensign Cutler. Composing herself, she thought back to the old mentor, desperately trying to remember his name. What was it? Se . . ., Sevek? Yes, that was it. Looking down at the wonderful child in her arms, T'Pol whispered,  
  
"I, T'Pol of Vulcan, acknowledge you as my son and name you Sevek."  
  
Elizabeth was openly crying while Phlox was cleaning up. After a few moments, Liz remembered to give T'Pol an injection to stop the bleeding and the pain. T'Pol reluctantly gave her son back to Phlox, who ran more tests and began a medical file on him. While he was doing this, Ensign Cutler helped T'Pol to change. A few minutes later, she received her first breast- feeding lesson. The strong pulling sensation was unparalleled to anything T'Pol had ever felt. In her blissful state of complete peace and rapidly dissolving pain, she faintly felt her husband's presence in the fringes of her mind. Inwardly, she smiled at him. She needed to share this with him as quickly as possible, both for the sake of ceremony as for themselves.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
It was now nearly 1130 hours. K'Vel had been patiently waiting for news, but his diplomatic patience was beginning to wear thin. He had tried everything he could think of in the past six hours to relax. Meditation was fruitless, and exercise tired his body but not his mind. And sleep was absolutely out of the question. Besides, it would hardly be proper for him to rest when the captain had been awake for nearly 24 hours anyway. Finally, he had gone back to the bridge in a last attempt to busy himself. Captain Archer had almost immediately called him into the Ready Room. As he entered, K'Vel noticed how drained the captain looked. However un- diplomatic it may have been, he thought it necessary to state the obvious.  
  
"You should rest, Captain. You need to remain at optimum efficiency."  
  
"You know, if you and T'Pol didn't have different voices, I wouldn't be able to tell you apart. Your concern is noted, but I'm not doing anything until I get a report on my science officer." Came the reply. Archer had been standing in front of the window, but now had begun to pace, as was his habit.  
  
"So," he began, "How are you holding up?"  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"You're not nervous? Jittery?"  
  
"No."  
  
Archer shook his head at the typically Vulcan response.  
  
"It's been several hours. That's normal, right?"  
  
"As far as I know, yes."  
  
Silence returned. Neither really knew what to say. Thankfully, Phlox chose that moment to bring them up to date.  
  
"Phlox to Archer, K'Vel."  
  
Archer almost ran to the comm.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"I thought you might like to know that the SubCommander is heading up as we speak."  
  
"What?! So soon?" Archer cried. K'Vel stiffened in anticipation.  
  
The happiness in the doctor's voice was impossible to miss. "Oh yes, she has recuperated very quickly."  
  
Immediately, both Human and Vulcan dashed onto the bridge. T'Pol wasn't there yet, and instead they received odd looks from the senior crew.  
  
"Somethin' wrong?" Trip drawled from behind the tactical station.  
  
And instantly after that, the lift doors opened to reveal T'Pol. She was clothed in her deep purple civilian clothing, and was holding a tiny bundle wrapped securely in the same kind of cloth. Breaths were drawn in as the moment they had all been anticipating for ten months finally arrived. All were silent (including Hoshi) as T'Pol slowly and gingerly walked towards her frozen husband.  
  
She stopped in front of him, in the center of the bridge. Somewhere in the back of his non-functioning brain, he noticed how different she looked. There was something new in her eyes. He could not describe what it was, but he knew she had changed. He did not move or make a sound, waiting for this blessed dream to end. But instead of waking up, he found himself seeing T'Pol, his wife open her mouth to speak. Very softly (and in English, for the benefit of the crew) she said the time-honored words that signified the beginning of new life.  
  
"I, T'Pol of Vulcan, present to you our son, Sevek."  
  
Sevek. Now where had he heard that name before? As he remembered, he nearly grinned. Only decades of training prevented it. Of course! Sevek, our meditation master. A remarkable, highly respected man. A very worthy namesake. Consciously, he returned,  
  
"And I, K'Vel of Vulcan, acknowledge him as our son."  
  
T'Pol handed the infant to him, and he father wondered silently at the miracle that was nature. Here was a perfectly formed individual, his son. He cradled the infant in his arms as if it was the single most precious and fragile thing he had ever come across. Which of course, it was. The bridge exploded into a cacophony of cheers, exclamations, and applause. Hoshi ran over to hug T'Pol fiercely and to coo over the baby. Trip bounded over with his camera and made the parents pose for a number of photos.  
  
"You son of a gun," he cried for the second time in ten months. K'Vel had noted how he was the only person to be referred to as such. "You got somebody ta carry on the fam'ly line! Congratualtions! And this little lady," he added, nodding cheekily at T'Pol, "Is gonna make one hell of a momma."  
  
"Please refrain from using profanity, Commander, lest you corrupt him before I can teach him to ignore your infamous language." T'Pol admonished. But it was half-hearted, and Trip knew it. Still, he held his tongue and just winked instead. Finally, the happy couple turned to Archer. He was beaming at them, unable to articulate his happiness for them both.  
  
"Captain," his second-in-command began, "would you like to hold him?"  
  
Speechless at the offer, he dumbly opened his arms, allowing T'Pol to situate her son within them. Looking down at the little guy, he couldn't believe he was holding a baby Vulcan. The first Vulcan to be born on a human ship, and probably the first Vulcan he would never hold his heritage against. He handed the child back to its mother as he returned to his command chair, tapping the comm.  
  
"Captain to all hands. It gives me great pleasure to announce the birth of Sevek, son of SubCommander T'Pol and Ambassador K'Vel of Vulcan."  
  
There was more cheering, but this time was not restricted to the bridge. Things quieted down a bit for the baby's sake (T'Pol had to remind everyone of Vulcan superior hearing) and Archer yawned wide enough for his jaw to audibly crack. Seeing T'Pol open her mouth, he waved her off.  
  
"I know I know, and believe me, I'm going." And he did.  
  
A/N continued: Okay, this was a long one and it took me a while, but hopefully it was satisfactory. This is not quite the end (There will be an epilogue), but it will be very soon! Anyway, how was this chapter? Did I do the Vulcans credit? Let me know aka give me feedback!! 


	14. Epilogue Part 1

A/N: *sigh* I'm almost sorry to say this, but Fated is nearly complete. At the risk of trapping myself into a never-ending work that eventually becomes increasingly boring due to the lack of ideas and interest, I've decided to end this with a two part epilogue. Hopefully, it will provide a satisfactory end to this seven-month project. If it doesn't, you are all welcome to imagine the end however you wish. I place no limitations on imagination, but I do ask that you not post any of it on the internet. After all, this is MY story and I've become quite protective of it.  
  
Part of the reason for my decision is this: I've missed writing T/T stories. I had a nice break, but I miss it and I have a new story rattling around in my brain. The muse is getting restless and demands that I put it in writing. Look for it soon! That said, enjoy these last two chapters.  
  
Epilogue Part 1: Seven Years Later . . .  
  
Lt. Commander Malcolm Reed woke up to the pitch darkness of his apartment bedroom. For a moment, he was disoriented, but as his eyes adjusted to the nearly non-existent light, he remembered. He was in San Francisco, taking a leave of absence from his position with the tactical branch of Starfleet. Sleeping beside him; dead to the world as she always was after a long day, lay his wife of five years: Hoshi Sato, as was.  
  
He looked down on her decidedly petite and feminine figure, and smiled in the darkness. Her shadowy form prompted him to remember when he had first met her and their earliest days together on Enterprise. He had never loved anyone so much as Hoshi, and even if it had taken him years to admit it, he had. He remembered that it was only after K'Vel's provocation that he had truly begun to see Hoshi as a woman, not just a communications officer. It had taken many personal battles and sly cajoling on the Vulcan's part to convince him to override protocol and ask her to movie night. He had never regretted the decision, and apparently the captain had nothing against it, considering he had married them two years later.  
  
He was completely devoted to her. In fact, she had reportedly tested him during the earlier days of their courtship through one, simple method. He smiled to remember it. She had come up with reasons for him to leave the armory, and the speed with which he complied determined his score. He had smugly noted that his compliance time had steadily shortened, much to her delight.  
  
Still lying awake in the darkness, Malcolm's thoughts drifted back to the last days onboard the Enterprise. The mission had lasted for eight years, a Starfleet record yet to be broken. The crew had become a family during those years, and it was a miracle that they all survived. Too many times he had been close to making a difficult tactical decision that could have resulted in death. Thankfully, none of them had.  
  
In fact, they had really come together over the child, Sevek. To be able to watch the little tyke grow and learn was a treasure, even for people like Malcolm who had never considered having children. That kid changed his mind, and he began to think that having a little Malcolm or Hoshi running around wouldn't be such a bad idea. It was also immensely interesting (and often quite amusing) to watch T'Pol and K'Vel interact and raise Sevek. Of course, they had disagreements, and a few times T'Pol had reportedly kicked her husband out of their quarters for the night.  
  
But as they say, lover's quarrels are swift to heal. That was especially the case with that particular couple. Malcolm still marveled at their relationship. They were so apparently devoted to each other and their son. It was indescribable the way T'Pol had blossomed from the cool, aloof, and forbidding First Officer into a kinder, gentle and patient mother without ever losing her Vulcan qualities. Hoshi believed T'Pol always possessed those qualities on the inside, but being a Vulcan had been unable to use or deal with them before her marriage.  
  
And that kid of theirs, what potential! At two years, he was beginning to speak with clearly enunciated words, and by the age of six was fluent in Vulcan, English and Klingon. Hoshi had made it her personal mission to teach the little boy all she knew about languages, but they simply hadn't had the time. Yet, whenever she could she would speak to him in one of the three, and proudly announced to anyone who would listen that his accent was nearly perfect.  
  
Trip of course, had made his own contribution to Sevek's vocabulary. Malcolm would never forget how he had once greeted Admiral Forrest over the Comm, with a "Dammit, sir, you look like ya need some southern cookin'!" That had been the subject of laughs for a week afterwards, much to T'Pol's embarrassment and K'Vel's amusement. That was when they had really begun to teach him diplomatic strategies and distinguish between acceptable terms of speech and the ones the Commander used.  
  
And of course, he, the tactical officer, taught the boy to use a phase pistol. Sevek's pistol only had one setting (for stun), but it was a weapon nonetheless. One of his parents was always nearby to explain the Vulcan views on weapons, but he had taught Sevek how to grip it and trust it. Countless hours of drilling had proved their worth when the little boy stunned a venomous lizard that had come onboard after an away mission, and no one had been prouder than he.  
  
It had come as sort of a shock when they received the orders to return home. Needless to say, all of them were anxious to get home to see beloved Earth and loved ones face to face. But no one liked the idea of being separated from the people they had come to respect, rely upon, and love. Saddest of all, though, was when the Vulcan parents announced their plans to return to Vulcan. They wanted Sevek to spend some time with other Vulcans and to attend a real Vulcan school. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, but it did. Hoshi and numerous others had cried; hating to see the family they so loved leave them. Sevek had put up such a brave front: his back was ramrod straight, and the face that so resembled his father's never lost its serene countenance. Even his large, raisin colored eyes remained clear and tear-free. A true Vulcan look.  
  
But his appearance belied his true feelings. He composed a letter to each member of the crew, expressing in words what he could not in person. T'Pol and K'Vel had done the same, but they did not fear losing their composure as their son did. They went to each person and said goodbye. They had become much more intimately acquainted with their subordinates than they had expected, and it showed. No Vulcan mask could hide how they felt about Enterprise's crew.  
  
After a reluctant rendezvous with a Vulcan cruiser, the Enterprise continued on its way home. Oh, there were a few problems, as were expected, but they became fewer and farer between as their neared home. Phlox had decided to stay, and had accepted a teaching commission at the Academy.  
  
After they got back, everyone pretty much went their separate ways. Contacts were maintained, but some went back into space after a few months, while others moved to more obscure places in the world. As for himself, he was head instructor of tactics at the Academy, and Hoshi was teaching languages and working on a new UT. They periodically met up with Trip and Archer and Travis, but other contacts were left to letters and transmissions.  
  
Now, three years after their return, Starfleet had organized a reunion for the old crew to commemorate the ten-year anniversary of Enterprise's launch. Once they heard the news, he and Hoshi had immediately made plans to attend. It was rumored that this was the only time that the entire crew was on earth (minus the Vulcans), and that HQ had decided to jump on the opportunity.  
  
Glancing at the digital clock and seeing that he had been awake for nearly an hour, Malcolm rolled over and snuggled Hoshi; determined to get back to sleep. He didn't want to be bleary-eyed and tired for the reunion tomorrow night. Hoshi in response sighed. All was still again in the bedroom of the San Francisco apartment.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The following afternoon in the sunshine typical of California, Jonathon Archer waited impatiently. This reunion made him feel young again, and he was anxious to see his crew. He had gotten to know each one of them pretty personally, and he wanted to know what everyone had been doing since their return.  
  
He had spent the last 3 years trying to organize the next big interspace missions. That meant overseeing the planning and construction of the ships, helping make changes in protocol and database, as well as giving the planners a better idea of what it was like in space. He remembered acutely how many close scrapes he and his crew had gone through. As a result, he had spent a lot of time since getting back dredging up the past. It was not uncommon for a meeting to last several hours, in order to allow him to tell a story in full detail.  
  
Yet, even though he was no longer at the forefront of the action, he was still involved. Nearing his fifties, he had never married and was content to live with D'Artagnan (one of Porthos' offspring). He and Trip had remained very close, particularly since the engineer had also never married, despite his charisma and Southern charm. The two made it a ritual to get together at least once every two weeks, just to maintain the friendship. It got a little difficult sometimes, as Trip was often busy working on new proto-type engines and the like.  
  
As he waited in the sun, squinting against the glare, he wondered how his former science officer was doing. He and T'Pol had also maintained contact, but often she would be traveling and communication would be difficult. He had tried to contact her weeks ago to invite her and the family to the reunion, only to be told that she was on assignment. It was immensely disappointing, because he also wanted to know how K'Vel and Sevek were doing. Sevek must now have been about nine years old, he mused to himself. That kid had been like the son he'd never had.  
  
He remembered sitting on the bridge on a particularly boring day, and listening to the Vulcan language being spoken by mother and son. It was touching to watch them together. Sevek was most mothers' dream child: Adorable, healthy, and very obedient. It was clear to him that the little boy idolized his parents, and hung onto their every word. And he was happy to see that they knew it and were affectionate in return. Yes, T'Pol and K'Vel were excellent parents.  
  
But musing about them only made him want to see them more. He wanted to know what T'Pol and K'Vel were up to. Had they added to their family? How was Sevek growing up? His wistful musings were stopped short as he saw two very familiar people approaching him. The man was in a practical but causal suit, his usually grave face smiling. Beside him strode a petite Asian woman with long, luxurious hair, who turned her head at every slight sound.  
  
Archer smiled at them and waved. His former tactical and communications officers were quite a pair.  
  
"Long time no see, Captain!" Hoshi exclaimed in her renowned voice. Archer grinned, pleased that she hadn't changed.  
  
"Far too long, Hoshi. And how are you, Malcolm?" He inquired, turning to the quiet man.  
  
"Quite well, sir, thank you." The Brit replied. Again, Archer smiled to himself. Malcolm definitely hadn't changed; still the proper, precise British tactical expert. He silently wondered if the rumors of his being "whipped" by his wife were true.  
  
"Has anyone else arrived yet?" Hoshi asked, looking around her one-time commanding officer.  
  
"Here comes Travis and his wife, Phlox should be here soon, and Trip said he'd be a little late." Archer replied.  
  
Hoshi turned big, wide eyes on him, and he knew what was coming next.  
  
"What about T'Pol?"  
  
The captain sighed. He hadn't told anyone about his inability to reach T'Pol. But he realized that putting it off may not have been such a good idea. Who knew how many others were looking forward to seeing her, not to mention her family?  
  
"I'm afraid she won't be joining us. I wasn't able to contact her directly, and the High Command said she was on assignment."  
  
"What about K'Vel? And Sevek?" Malcolm asked.  
  
"K'Vel's on assignment too. I assume Sevek's with one of them."  
  
"That's too bad." Hoshi sighed dejectedly. "I was looking forward to seeing all of them again. It's hard to stay in touch when they are so far and always moving."  
  
They were suddenly joined by Travis and his new wife Kay. Introductions were made, and the heavier hearts were lifted. As soon as Phlox and Trip joined them, all went into a little café for lunch. They discussed everything over a three hour period. Family, mutual friends and acquaintances, jobs were included. The question of the Vulcans did come up, but it only lightly dampened the good mood. It was wonderful to see so many of the old faces again around one table.  
  
Archer looked around with satisfaction. He had been looking forward to this for a long time. It was so good to see his senior officers together again. And though T'Pol was missed, he knew she would have been there if she could.  
  
A/N continued: The reference to Malcolm being "whipped" does not imply anything sexual. As I understand it, it's slang meaning that the woman has her man at her beck and call.  
  
Part 2 of the Epliogue coming soon (I hope). Sorry it took so long to get this one up. I was in California for almost a week and it cost me a lot of Spring Break writing time. Hopefully I can get part 2 up sometime soon. And just for posterity:  
  
PLLLLEEEAAASSSEE REVIEW!!!! IT'S ALMOST THE END, SHOW SOME SUPPORT!!! 


	15. Epilogue Part 2: The End

A/N: This is it, everyone!! Seven months of work are about to coalesce and become one complete work. I'm so happy that I was able to complete this. And now I'd like to say a special thanks to all my reviewers. Every review has affected me in some way. Sometimes a review makes me consider aspects differently, others make me laugh, and others make my day wonderful. Thanks to all of you who took the time to read these chapters and leave praise and critique. I love you all!!!  
  
The next day, San Francisco International airport received a record number of Starfleet personnel. The only other time when they had flocked in such numbers was a decade before, when the crew of the Enterprise first came together. There was crying and hugging, as there always is at the airports, but not in the usual sense. Friends greeted friends, commanding officers and subordinates hugged and shook hands. Other travelers remarked that it looked like a very large family reunion, and in a way it was.  
  
At six o'clock, every crewmember was in main mess hall of the Academy. Tables and chairs had been cleared away to accommodate the large number of people who had come back to the place where it had all started. Several high ranking Starfleet officials were there, including Admiral Forrest, and a collection of Vulcans as well. To everyone's surprise, the ever-formidable Ambassador Soval was attended by his entourage. No one who knew the Ambassador (or knew of him) thought he would consort with humans, particularly to celebrate the anniversary of an event he had emphatically opposed.  
  
Soval was now nearing his thirtieth anniversary of being Ambassador to Earth. Though he looked no older than he had ten years ago, he no longer felt quite as proficient as he used to. Through T'Pol and her husband, he had come to have a better understanding of the humans. It had taken him many years to grudgingly acknowledge the fact that humans were someday going to be a very important presence in the universe. This realization had troubled him, especially since it meant that Vulcans were going to have to alter their approach to Human-Vulcan relations. It signaled to him that Earth was in need of a new ambassador, one who was ready for these inevitable changes. But it was going to be difficult to find someone that could represent the Vulcan interests faithfully and simultaneously be someone whom the humans would trust.  
  
Yet, despite his misgivings, he acted logically. It was clear that the major differences between the two worlds would have to be bridged, and it would have to start with him. He had even developed a better relationship with Captain Archer. They worked together often now, and he suspected T'Pol had a great influence on him as well. The change in the Captain amazed him to no end. Granted, humans were unpredictable, but Archer seemed to have lost a great deal of his infamous hatred of the Vulcan race. There was a time not so long ago that he would have been bitterly opposed to anything Soval had to say. Now, though they didn't always agree, there was a mutual respect.  
  
Soval looked around the large room. Humans he had never seen before milled around each other, chatting merrily about the "old days" and such. Sitting in his chair next to his vice council, Soval felt a twinge of what could only be sadness. While he longed to retire and return to Vulcan, he would miss his position here. He had done much with the humans, and he harbored some unusual feelings towards a few of them. Until recently, most those feelings bordered on hostility. But now he realized he would miss some of his human colleagues. 'Well, of course.' He reasoned with himself. 'No one will argue with me on Vulcan the way the humans do. However frustrating it can be, life will be considerably duller without them.' The older, tired part of his mind argued that it would also be quieter and more peaceful. Soval sighed silently and forced his mind into stillness. The ceremony was about to begin.  
  
Everyone had taken their seats and was waiting for the evening to officially begin. Seated at the main table were Captain Archer, the various admirals in attendance, and the senior crew of the Enterprise. Forrest stood carefully and made his way to the podium. Time had aged him considerably. His head was covered in silver-gray strands, and his face was carved with deep lines around his nose and mouth. But his crystal blue eyes remained undimmed; twinkling with a hidden light, almost as though he was privy to a wonderful secret. He cleared his throat, and began.  
  
"It's wonderful to see so many of the old faces." He paused as the audience glanced around the room of their own accord.  
  
"Though I have never spoken with a few of you, I can match face with name and record. We've been following you since the launch, and we've never been so proud of any crew as we are of you.  
  
Ten years ago, you embarked on a historic mission. Each of you was selected due to your abilities, and we were not disappointed. On this ten year anniversary, I would like to thank you for deciding to join that mission. It had changed the course of our future.  
  
I know you probably don't want to hear a long and drawn out speech, seeing as so many of your old friends are here, so I'll cut mine off now by saying this: you are the people that will be remembered in history books, because of all you have done."  
  
Tears shined throughout the hall, and through the applause faint sniffling could be heard. As he stepped off the podium, the admiral nodded to Ambassador Soval, who nodded in return. A tense hush fell over the crowd as the proud Vulcan stood and moved effortlessly to the center of the stage. He surveyed them all with the trademark Vulcan stare, and launched into his own speech.  
  
"Considering that Admiral Forrest has already congratulated you and remembered the past, I will not waste your time by doing the same. I stand before you because I have an announcement to make."  
  
No one dared to breathe. The same question was on the tip of every man and woman's tongue: What is he talking about?  
  
"As of today, I am no longer Vulcan's Ambassador to Earth."  
  
An audible rustling moved through the crowd as crewmembers looked at each other in shock and confusion.  
  
"I have served under that title for nearly thirty years, and my superiors and I have agreed that it is time for me to retire."  
  
The rustling grew louder, and Soval had to raise his voice considerably to finish his speech.  
  
"I assure you that I leave you with a very well trained and experienced individual, who will serve both our interests well. I regret to inform you that the new ambassador will not arrive until tomorrow, and therefore cannot be here for this momentous occasion."  
  
All movement stopped after that. Momentous occasion? Soval had always made it perfectly clear that he was against the mission from the start. Why was he saying this now? As if to answer their questions, he continued.  
  
"We, the High Command and myself, realize that this mission was quite an accomplishment. Through years of trial and error," He said with a glance at Archer, who grinned slightly back.  
  
"You have proven that you are ready to actively join the interspecies community."  
  
The shock was palpable. Had hell frozen over? Soval actually said that Earth was ready to join the interspecies community? Trip was spewing random expression, and Malcolm and Hoshi shared a glance. Who knew? The ancient Vulcan turned to the head table and beckoned Archer to come up. Soval went back to his seat, pointedly ignoring the curious looks from Vulcans and Humans alike. Instead, he focused completely on his one-time antagonist. It was Jon's turn to give a speech. The silence was deafening, but he was less nervous because of the huge smiles directed at him. He felt like a real commanding officer again, and was touched that the loyalty of his crew had not dissipated.  
  
"As Ambassador Soval said, this is a momentous occasion. Ten years ago to the day, we set off on the mission of a lifetime. We encountered hundreds of species; some good and some bad. We had state-of-the-art technology, the first warp 5 engine, and the most beautiful ship ever built by man. But best of all, we had each other. Each of you was a part of the most important component. Without you as a crew, we may not have been as successful as we were. Having all of you back here again, together, is a wonderful site."  
  
Jon stopped for a moment to compose himself. It would be appropriate to end it there, but he still had one issue he wanted - needed- to address.  
  
"I said all of you, but actually, we're short a few people. Three to be exact, and I think you know who they are."  
  
"You may have noticed that SubCommander T'Pol and Ambassador K'Vel are missing, but I'm sure they would have been here if they could have. They were our friends and mentors, spending years with us and getting to know us as we got to know them. T'Pol's job was to prepare us and help us, and I think she helped us more than she knows. Their son Sevek grew up with us. I know I've missed them, and I'm sure many of you have too. But duty calls, and it just so happened that they couldn't be here tonight -"  
  
"Correction, Captain." A familiar voice called out.  
  
Archer's head (and everyone else's too, naturally) whipped up to look towards the back of the mess. Two figures, half hidden by the shadows, stepped forward. The familiar serene faces gazed at the crew they had once served with.  
  
T'Pol noted with satisfaction that they seemed very surprised. It seemed that everything had gone according to plan. Silently, she thanked Soval from advocating her wishes.  
  
"I apologize for our tardiness. Our transport was delayed."  
  
"T'Pol!?" Archer gasped. He couldn't believe his eyes. T'Pol looked exactly as she had the day they left Enterprise. K'Vel hadn't changed either. He still had that aura of authority and his face was as pleasantly neutral as always. They were approaching the podium, and Archer was baffled. How had she come to be there? Weren't they both supposed to be on assignment? He was utterly confused, and said as much. Spreading his arms, he laughed uncertainly.  
  
"SubCommander, K'Vel, I thought you were on assignment!"  
  
There was a mischievous glint in K'Vel's hazel eyes.  
  
"We are."  
  
"But yer on Earth!" Trip called out as he stood. The shock in his face didn't exactly outweigh his delight at seeing them. T'Pol leveled her intense grown gaze at him, and with the tilt of the head that was all her own replied,  
  
"Your point, Commander?"  
  
Soval was growing tired of this. As interesting as it was to watch the humans work out the problem on their own, he felt it would be best if this was handled professionally. Rising and coming to stand between his former protégé and her former captain, he explained,  
  
"We honored T'Pol's request in not telling you they were coming."  
  
"Why?" Archer asked again. This was not getting any simpler. As happy as he was to see them, he wanted this straightened out first.  
  
"I believe you once told me that humans enjoy surprises, Captain." T'Pol ventured innocently.  
  
"You made the High Command, Soval . . .everyone believe you weren't coming so that it could be a surprise???"  
  
"Actually captain, we had always planned to attend. The surprise is our reason for staying."  
  
Archer resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He considered this quietly, and noticed that no one in the room was making a sound. Apparently, they were just as confused as he was.  
  
"So what is it then?" Hoshi demanded impatiently. She fidgeted in her chair, fighting the urge to hug the sneaky Vulcans.  
  
Soval trained wise, ancient eyes on her and Hoshi immediately stopped fidgeting.  
  
"I made an error. Your new ambassador has arrived."  
  
All eyes turned toward K'Vel.  
  
"Wait, you mean . . ." Archer began.  
  
"Yes, I am Vulcan's new Ambassador to Earth." K'Vel finished.  
  
Silence prevailed for a second longer, and then a distinctly Southern voice rang out through the mess hall.  
  
"Why you conniving little woman!" The harshness was cancelled out by the enormous grin on his face.  
  
"Guess we had a stronger affect on you than I thought!"  
  
"Indeed Commander," T'Pol retorted. "But I was hoping that for once in your life, you would be speechless."  
  
He snorted. "Fat chance."  
  
K'Vel turned towards Archer, waiting. The captain looked at him blankly, still trying to process the information that had just flooded his brain. Then, with a grin to top all grins, he said to K'Vel.  
  
"In that case, Ambassador, welcome to Earth."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
No more words could be easily heard for some time. The speeches were over, and everyone was getting up to talk to their peers. The applause was deafening and before they knew it, the Vulcan couple was being embraced by the former senior crew member that was Hoshi. Through her tears, she asked,  
  
"Where's Sevek?"  
  
T'Pol was about to reply when a high-pitched voice permeated the din. All activity stopped for the umpteenth time as K'Vel called something out in Vulcan. Out of the shadows where his parents had stood, Sevek stepped out and walked purposefully towards the podium. He stopped though, and spoke to the shadows. A few seconds later, and tiny toddler tottered out on unsteady legs. She gazed around the huge people surrounding her with enormous liquid brown eyes.  
  
As the children passed, coos and gasps preceeded them. Not only had Sevek grown into a steady and confident little man, but he held the girl's hand tightly and would occasionally speak reassuring words to her. They reached the podium, and the tiny girl launched herself into her mother's arms while Sevek stood silently beside her. But curiosity got the better of the boy as he leaned over to see familiar faces.  
  
"Who's this?" Malcolm asked softly, inquiring after the little girl. She was an exact copy of her mother, just as her brother was an exact copy of his father. The little girl didn't hide her face like most children. Instead, she traded stare for stare, taking in everything with a calm and intelligent gaze.  
  
"Our daughter, T'Nir." T'Pol replied.  
  
"You had a daughter and you didn't tell us?" Hoshi demanded, all the while trying to get a better look at the child.  
  
"We have been extremely busy in the past three years. There was never a chance to mention the progression of our personal lives."  
  
"She's exactly like you." Travis commented happily. "Same face and eyes."  
  
"Who are you?" T'Nir asked. The humans were taken aback. The child's English was perfect and nearly unaccented. She had definitely been well taught.  
  
They introduced themselves to T'Nir, only to find that her vocabulary was limited, like those of most two-year-olds. All the while, Sevek had stood patiently beside his parents, waiting for someone to address him. Finally, Trip walked over.  
  
"Well, look at you! You've gotta be four feet tall by now, aren' cha?"  
  
"Yes, Commander, I am 4.2 feet tall."  
  
"Don't get all precise on me, kid. Yer soundin' too much like yer ma."  
  
There was a glimmer of a smile in the handsome boy's eyes. Trip was pleased beyond words that he hadn't changed very much.  
  
"As I recall, there were some issues regarding the language you speak."  
  
Trip laughed. It was good to know the kid had a sense of humor, even if it was as dry as Texas in August.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Will T'Pol be staying?"  
  
"Yes, she has agreed to teach science and mathematics courses at the Academy."  
  
"Excellent. With her around, we'll be separating the wheat from the chaff in no time."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"So, tell me, how did you get this assignment?"  
  
Archer was talking with K'Vel in a private office. It was now quite late, and the party was over. T'Pol had left to get the children settled in the Vulcan compound.  
  
"I was asked to take it."  
  
"Because of your time on Enterprise?"  
  
"Partially. The High Command realized that a new Ambassador needed new qualities."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Human-Vulcan relations are going to change, and probably within a very small time frame."  
  
Archer looked at him over the table. How was it possible? Things were going to change?  
  
"I know what you are going to ask." K'Vel answered, amused.  
  
"The High Command has discovered what T'Pol and I already know."  
  
"And what might that be?"  
  
"We know that your race is going to become a very important one in the interspecies community. We cannot hold you back any longer, and our relationship will have to change to accommodate this. That is why Ambassador Soval chose to retire; he feels that he does not have the ability to facilitate these changes."  
  
Jon sat back in stupefied silence. It was over. The era in which human development was impeded by the Vulcans was over. They were actually going to let them progress. For a man who had spent the majority of his life fighting for such a right, the change was completely unexpected.  
  
"You and T'Pol knew this?"  
  
"Yes. Why did you think she chose to stay when she had so many opportunities to leave? She saw the potential after your very first mission. That was why she chose to remain on Enterprise."  
  
"I never thought . . ."  
  
"She hides it well, as she should. But she recognized the merits of your culture for what they are. It is part of the reason we stayed with you after Sevek was born, and why we are here now. We do not want out children to be brought up believing that our culture is perfect. We do not want them believing that they must deny a part of themselves to be considered worthy of the title 'Vulcan'. Too many are, and as a result become narrow-minded and suffer from self conflict. We wish to spare our children that, and to make them 'citizens of the universe'."  
  
Archer looked at the man across from him very closely. It was incredible. What he was saying made complete sense, but it was still very . . . Vulcan. Maybe the reason that they had held Earth back so long was that they feared losing their place as the dominant warp-capable species. Maybe that was why relations between them had always been so strained! Whatever the reason, with people like T'Pol and K'Vel, things were bound to change.  
  
"I hope you're successful."  
  
"We think we will be. Sevek is already discovering new ideas, some of which others find unorthodox. He was the first in his class to master meditation, and both he and T'Nir have no substantial difficulty accepting that other cultures have their merits."  
  
Archer smiled and shook his head.  
  
"With people like them, who knows what will happen?"  
  
A comfortable silence replaced the enlightening conversation, and both were at peace. K'Vel was thinking of his family, hoping that his children would become the kind of people that would be desperately needed one day. As for Captain Archer, a lifetime of struggle and pain was over. The future was a clean slate with no inhibitions. Looking back on his own career, he thought about the Vulcans. Yes, they had done their share of damage, but they had done wonderful things as well. They had provided him with two of the best friends he had ever had, and they had gotten him out of more close scrapes than he could count.  
  
He realized that he had been pretty delusional as a young man. All he had done was focus on the "bad" side of Vulcan culture, the one that was so unlike his own. But there wasn't really a bad side to either society. Both cultures had developed traditions and policies out of necessity. Just because they were different didn't make them less admirable cultures. And then, he did something he never thought was possible. A heavy weight lifted from his heart. It had been with him so long, he had hardly noticed it until its absence. He understood why they had done what they did. He knew it was for protection of the humans and the protection of the universe. The Vulcans had made good on their promise: To let Earth go it alone when they proved they were ready. And so, good begets good. Jon realized that to move on and secure a better future, he had to take a step. And so, he forgave the Vulcans. He forgave them of keeping Earth's development in check, even though it meant his father had never seen the engine he had worked so hard to build. But you have to put things behind you and let bygone be bygones. So with a smile and a light heart, he stuck out his open hand,  
  
"To a successful future, Ambassador."  
  
"May both out cultures live long and prosper together." K'Vel answered.  
  
FINIS  
  
A/N Continued: Whew! This was HARD!! Endings in general are hard, but man! This was a mother. I hope you liked it. I really wanted to bring them all back together and show what a truly powerful effect that mission had for them, especially the Vulcans and Archer. If you didn't like something, let me know. Maybe I'll revise it someday. And now that it's over . . .GIVE ME FEEDBACK!! 


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